Clash
by Narnian at Heart
Summary: They clashed like toothpaste and orange juice...so why was it that they couldn't stay away from eachother?
1. Mutual Distrust

**So, dang it, someone cut me to the chase at the last minute! This isn't the FIRST Daryl and Michonne fic...but it's still gonna be good.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters depicted in this story. The Walking Dead is not mine, no matter how much I wish it was.**

**Also, forgive any racial slurs that may be mentioned in this story but let's face it...we all know how Daryl used to be and his mind still holds a bit of his old self in there so there will be some racist comments made. Note that I **_**DO NOT**_** share these views and I think racism is stupid and horrible! **

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The moment Andrea had walked up to that gate everything had gone to hell. Not that Daryl wasn't glad to see her alive and well, but the dynamics had settled nicely among the group after their success in securing the prison but the arrival of Andrea had caused a ripple effect that had shaken the entire group. To be honest though, it wasn't Andrea causing the stress it was that...Michonne.

She set him on edge, made him feel like he constantly had to watch his back. Like now, for example, he was up in the south guard tower, Carol sat in the north tower, and they were suppose to be on guard for walkers and unfriendly people outside the prison fence...but Daryl's eye couldn't help but suspiciously flick to that tight-lipped, jawless-walker-totting, sharp ass object carrying woman as she and Andrea walked the fence to check for any weaknesses or repairs that needed to be done. Sure, she appeared to be contributing to the group but Daryl still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut every time she was in his sight.

"Daryl, come in?" the walkie talkie on the ledge in front of him crackled to life.

"See something?" Daryl responded into the walkie, his gaze no scanning the area over near the north tower where Carol was calling from.

"No, but I'm really bored," Carol's voice sounded sheepish even through the white noise of the walkie. "Anything interesting going on over there?"

"Naw, quiet as death," he instantly wanted to facepalm himself for that statement.

"Uh huh, here too," Carol replied, not even acknowledging his thoughtless remark.

"Just keepin' an eye on Andrea right now," Daryl admitted, his eyes going back to where the two women had stopped to discuss who knows what.

"You don't need to worry about her, she's with Michonne," Carol replied.

"Exactly."

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Daryl sighed heavily out of pure boredom as his tired eyes scanned the edge of the forest for any threats, his mind was starting to wander and he shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on the task at hand.

"Don't fall asleep on the job," the voice sent a chill up his spine, how the hell had she snuck up on him like that? Jumping up, he spun around while raising his crossbow to his shoulder, aiming right between those chocolate brown eyes, eyes that matched her skin almost to the shade. She just stared back at him, a small smile twitched the corner of her mouth and Daryl had a suspicion she was silently laughing at him.

"Easy there, redneck," she stated calmly, pushing his crossbow down as she slid by him sideways to take his place in the guard seat. "It's my watch, go do whatever it is you do."

Daryl wanted so badly to snap back with something mean, something he would have said without hesitation only months before. Words jumped into his mind, words like _nigger_ and _coon _and _spook, _but they died on the tip of his tongue as he relaxed his grip on the bow in his hands and stepped back, watching her carefully until he reached the ladder behind him and swung over, climbing back down to the prisonyard.

"Hey," another voice made him jump again, but he recognized it as Andrea and he relaxed before turning to face her.

"Whadd'ya want, blondie?" he asked with his regular condescending tone.

"I want to know what your problem is," Andrea replied, staring him down.

"What're ya talkin' about? I ain't got a problem."

"Is it because she's black?"

Daryl felt like Andrea had just slapped him in the face. Was he ever going to be able to leave the racist reputation behind?

"You accusin' me of somethin'?"

"If the shoe fits..."

"It ain't got nothin' ta do with the color of 'er skin, Andrea," Daryl suddenly felt the need to defend himself. "Now you're stereotypin' me just because of my upbringin'?"

"It's got nothing to do with your upbringing, Daryl," Andrea replied sharply, "I've HEARD some of the things you and Merle said about T-Dog and Morales and Jacqui!"

"Key word there, _heared_," Daryl barked, "I ain't no master of the English language but that means it was in the past. I ain't Merle!"

Daryl's eyes remained deliberately locked on hers as he shouldered past her in the direction of the gate.

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Michonne watched he scene below, even though she couldn't hear the words exactly she heard the last statement the crossbow weilding hick made before he stomped off toward the gates. She wasn't sure who this "Merle" character was but she figured it was a sore subject for him.

"Sounds like you pissed off the redneck," she commented when Andrea joined her in the tower. Andrea looked at her and she could see the regret in her green eyes.

"Yeah, I think I bruised his ego," she said, leaning against the desk as she watched Daryl's figure disappear into the trees. She knew he was going hunting to clear his head like he always did.

Michonne stayed quiet, but she had a feeling Andrea had hurt much more than just his ego. The redneck looked, sounded and acted tough, not that she at all doubted his abilities or strength, but there was something else under that macho facade if Michonne was any judge of character.

"He doesn't trust you," Andrea stated, out of the blue.

Michonne wasn't surprised at all, she hadn't missed the angry glances and the doubtful glares Daryl Dixon had been giving her from the moment she had walked into that prison with Andrea. She still remembered the deadly seriousness in his eyes as he trained the sights of his crossbow at her the very first time. She had liked those eyes, they were no nonsense and protective and cautious...the same look she held in her own eyes more often than not.

"He doesn't have any reason to trust me yet," she finally replied to Andrea. "Maybe he's the smartest one in this group after all."

Andrea only laughed.

"Dixon? He's probably got an 8th grade education level at the most," she mused.

"There are other types of intelligence," Michonne's eyes flicked over to judge the blonde's reaction.

Andrea seemed to mull that over for a while before she smile slightly and nodded.

"Are you saying we shouldn't trust you?" she asked, teasingly.

"Not what I said," Michonne objected quietly, "I think I've proved myself to you most of all...but no one in this group knows my story and they still trust me like I've always been here. That redneck is the only one taking this whole thing in stride. That's why he's still alive int his world."

The girls fell silent as their minds strayed to people who had not been so fortunate. Finally Michonne felt like if she didn't get out of that tower she would go crazy so she stood quickly.

"You gonna take watch?" she asked, handing Andrea the rifle that Daryl had left her. Andrea looked surprised but took the gun with a nod. Michonne nodded back her thanks and climbed down to the yard. She didn't know exactly where to go now thst she was down here, but something inside her told her the gate. So she followed her gut and Daryl Dixon as she headed into the woods surrounding the prison.

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**Here's the start of an awesome plan I have in my head...let me know what ya'll think!**


	2. What I Really Think

**Ok, sorry It took me a bit to get this up but I've been studying for my first EMS test and it was a very long study guide.**

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Michonne was quiet and shehad always thought of herself as pretty subtle and she was no stranger to sneaking silently as a shadow through the woods...but Daryl had been born into this and he had heard her coming a mile away.

_Dumb bitch. _He slipped off the deer path he'd been following and melted into the thick underbrush of the forest and backtracked. _She must have a death wish, followin' me out here like this..._

Sure enough, not moments after that thought he saw her. She was folloing the deer path as he had been, her eyes searching the woods around her carefully. But not carefully enough. Daryl crept silently out from the bursh behind her and rose from his hunter's crouch to aim his crossbow between her shoulder blades. He let out a little sharpt whistle to announce his presence and she whipped around with wide eyes. But he didn't see a speck of fear in them, only surprise.

"You're a sneaky little son of a bitch aren't you, redneck?" she said with a sneer, her right hand relaxed it's grip on the handle of her katana and she took a more relaxed stance. Daryl's stance was anything but relaxed and he didn't lower his bow.

"What the hell are ya followin' me for, bitch?" he growled, his voice low and threatening.

"No reason to be uncivil," Michonne stated, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"Do I look like I'm jokin' to ya? What are you doing out here?" Daryl put on his most no-nonsense, 'I will shoot you if you don't speak up' expression and placed his finger threateningly on the trigger.

Michonne's mocking attitude changed immediately when she sensed the man wasn't kidding around and that he would shoot her without a second thought if he felt threatened. So she took a step back and raised her hands in a gesture of peace.

"Calm down there, Jed Clampett," she wanted to smack herself for throwing that last bit in because he was obviously in no joking mood. "I was following you because I want to talk to you."

"Well I don't wanna talk to you," Daryl said, his eyes never faltering from behind his arrow sight.

Michonne felt a tiny bit of anger bubble up in her stomach but she pushed it down as she sized this Dixon character up. He didn't look like the type to make enpty threats and his icy cold glare that he was giving her from behind the fletching of his arrow made her bite back another joking name.

"Fine then," she said quietly, trying to calm the man down as she took a slow step forward. She noticed how his shoulders seemed to straighten a tiny bit and she stopped her advance for a moment. "I'll just go back to the prison and leave you to whatever it was you were doing."

Daryl didn't speak, didn't nod, didn't give any sign he had heard her but she began a slow walk toward him again and he stepped slightly to the side as she approached, keeping her in front of him all the way. When she passed him, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Andrea says you don't like me."

"She's right."

Michonne decided that if she wanted to tame the beast that was Daryl Dixon, honesty was a good way to start.

"I don't blame you," she replied, turning to face him. She was only a few inches from the tip of his arrow but she met his eyes behind it with determination. Those angry, cobalt eyes that held so much behind them...she couldn't see a hint of emotion right now though with the exception of hatred.

"Don't blame me? That's an invitation to shoot you, lady," his voice was cold, but Michonne saw just a tiny, tiny crack in his armor and she decided to pick at it and break it down. Daryl Dixon was curious about her, she could see.

"I don't blame you for who you are," Michonne restated, the meaning completely changing. "You don't know me, don't trust me, don't want to know me...because you don't like my kind, do you?"

"Your kind?" Daryl's voice held a hint of insult, "That ain't got nothin' ta do with it!"

Perfect. He was letting his anger get the better of him.

"Oh please, I've met enough people like you to know when they're disgusted by me," Michonne was playing the victim role well, she knew as she saw the expression on his face alter minutely to accommodate a little bit of regret. "We're like toothpaste and orange juice, Dixon. We'll never mix well if we can't look past the outside."

Daryl's eyes lost a little bit of their chill and his grip on the crossbow loosened slighty, his cheek raising from the stock to get a better look at her. It was all she needed. Quick as a flash, Michonne grabbed the crossbow by the foot brace and pushed it up, affectively throwing Daryl off balance, while taking a big step forward causing him to step back into a tree. Michonne drew his buck knife before he could get his hand to it and she pressed it to his throat, pinning him to the tree.

"You've got anger issues, don't you, Dixon?" Michonne asked, not in a mean way, she just...said it. Daryl's eyes narrowed at her but he made no move to fight back and she was surprised by that.

"You gonna kill me now?" he asked, his voice sounded unconcerned. "Gotta say...you're a pretty tough bitch."

"I didn't come out here after you to kill you," Michonne said with a shrug, and to prove it was true she backed off, lowered the knife and released her hold on the crossbow. Daryl's eyes flashed with confusion. "I honestly just want to talk to you but you've got more prickles than a pissed off porcupine."

To her surprise, he didn't make an attempt to raise the crossbow or even reclaim his knife, he just stared at her, almost like he was trying to read her mind.

"Not a big fan of being stalked in the woods," he said finally. Michonne cocked her head and smiled slightly at the hint of humor she heard in his tone. She decided that she really liked his voice. It was quiet and soft, with just a hint of gruffness to it, his slow Georgia drawl made his words seem to drag on for longer than other people. Normally, when Michonne heard that kind of drawl she would avoid that person because in her lifetime she had come to find that most people who didn't accept her were the ones who sounded and looked like Daryl Dixon. He looked like the kind of guy who would hang a Rebel flag on his wall, truck, flagpole...

"I wasn't stalking you," she said finally, shaking her head slightly to rid herself of distracting thoughts. "I...heard what Andrea said to you."

"Yeah? You believe 'er?" Daryl didn't seemed too concerned what she thought about him really.

Michonne wasn't positive about that answer yet.

"I don't know," she admitted, "I need to get to know you better if I'm gonna make that judgement. Why shouldn't I believe her though?"

"Because it ain't fuckin' true," Daryl stated a little louder. "Maybe it was once...but this end of the world shit tends to change people sometimes."

"So are you telling me that my skin color doesn't affect your judgement of me in the least bit?" she prodded for the truth. The real truth.

Daryl fell completely silent, his face twitched in a funny sort of way that made him look like he was gonna fry his brain from thinking too hard. But eventually he hung his head slightly and sighed.

"Naw, I'd be lyin' if I said it didn't," he admitted, and he looked so ashamed that Michonne felt almost sorry for him. Almost.

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_Aw, shit, now she really is gonna kill me._

But the woman's eyes didn't change and she made no move for any weapon, she just stood there and looked at him.

"I..." he tried to think of something to say to make his last staement better, but he couldn't.

"It's no big deal, Bo Duke," Michonne replied, cutting him off even though he had nothing further to state. "For the record, I think you're a racist hillbilly who probably can't read at a college level, owns a dozen shotguns, has stuffed deer heads everywhere on your walls and can't speak proper English."

Daryl scrunched his eyebrows together in a half annoyed/half amused glare.

"Wow, why don'tcha jus' say what ya _really _think?" he said, sarcasm dripping in his tone. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and leaned back into the tree, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Why don't you?" Michonne challenged.

"A'right," Daryl nodded, running his thumb along his bottom lip. "I think there's something about ya that ya don't want us to know. I don't think you're trustworthy and I don't feel safe with you in this group. You freak me out whenever you and Andrea disappear together somewhere because I honestly think you're gonna kill us off one by one."

Michonne found herself at a loss for words. She leaned back a bit to get a better look at this guy. He hadn't even mentioned anything about a stereotype, her gender, her race...nothing. Nothing that she had expected, and he hadn't screwed up the grammar either. Something told her there was more to Daryl Dixon than meets the eyes.

"If you can prove to me that you ain't intendin' on any o' that...then maybe I'll trust ya. But, for now, I'll be watching you."

And he grabbed her by the wrist, twisted slightly but not enough to hurt, and caught the handle of his buck knife as it fell from her grip. His eyes locked on hers for a moment, a silent threat plain to see, and then he walked off towards the prison with a confident strut.

"You've got some things to prove too, Dixon." Michonne said out loud to herself as she rubbed her wrist where her skin had an odd tingling sensation.

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**There ya go! It's coming along slowly, trying to figure out how to build up the trust and attraction. We shall see what my mind does :)**

**Review with any ideas you may have. SERIOUSLY, guys...tell me some things you want to see! I'm not kidding.**


	3. Saviours and Slurs

***Runs into the room and slides across the floor dramatically while doing jazz hands* I'M BACK! I promise I'm not running out on this story and I have some plans, but I had a big EMT test to study for and my other story had my attention diverted. Passed the test well and now I'm here to continue this story!**

**Let's get to it!**

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Michonne yawned widely as she leaned over the railing of the guard tower, letting her dreads hang loose around her face as a chilly morning breeze blew through the prison yard. The sun was just coming up over the horizon and her shift on watch was almost over. It was such a dull job and she hated it so much, but she realized how important it was as well, someone had to be watching at all times...especially with their LIVING enemies being a possibility.

She thought back to how Andrea had opened her big mouth about her group, the sick feeling in her gut at the look on the Governor's face...she hadn't liked it one bit and she wasn't foolish enough to believe he had just let them go out of good will. He would find them.

Sighing, she lifted her head and scanned the area within her watch jurisdiction and her eyes fell on a figure emerging from the woods a ways off. Squinting, she identified the figure as that Dixon guy and she found herself watching him closely...probably out of the lack of anything else to look at. He had his crossbow slung over his back and his head hung slightly, his walk looked a little bit less cocky and purposeful than normal...but she was no expert on Daryl Dixon so how would she know?

Scoffing, she picked up the rifle that was leaning against the railing and aimed toward him, watching him through the scope. Yep, he definitely looked less peppy than normal if that was even possible considering he wasn't exactly a cheery person. Michonne felt her lips twitch into a half smile as she thought about how unpleasant the redneck could be when he was in a bad mood...she decided today would be a great day to avoid him.

But her thoughts were cut short when she caught a movement in her scope in the morning shadows of the woods and a glint of metal. She eyed the spot for a moment and just before she wrote it off to imagination, she saw more movement and a camo-clad figure with a wicked looking machete stepped out of the woods in a stalking crouch. Michonne felt panic rise in her throat. They'd found them.

She watched the figure carefully as it moved a little further out...and then she realized the true danger here. This stranger was alone...but he was planning on doing some damage here today. Daryl was completely unaware of the presence behind him as he stomped his way towards the prison. But he was too far away to be seen by any of the other watchers! This stranger was stalking his prey and his prey was their hunter.

Michonne didn't think, she just felt a surge of anger and fear flow through her and she knelt down, stabalizing her rifle on the bar of the railing, taking very careful aim. This shot would be difficult...she would have to aim over Daryl to reach the intruder behind him, it was going to be risky. But if she didn't take the risk, he would be dead withing seconds! So she took a steadying breath and squeezed the trigger while she exhaled, her eyes never straying from the scope...and fired.

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The shot ran out and Daryl heard the bullet go by it was so close. Automatically, he dropped to the ground and looked around wildly, trying to spot the shooter...and he did.

"Bitch!" he snapped. Michonne stood up from her crouch in the tower and he played dead, maybe she would think she had got him...she was going to get a surprise in the form of a buck knife to the back of the knee if she came down here to drag his body off to the woods. Sure enough, she was coming down from the guard tower.

Daryl unsheathed the knife as slowly and with as little movement as possible and waited, his grip tight on the handle.

"Daryl!" Michonne's voice sounded...concerned? Wait, what? "Daryl, did I hit you too?"

Too? Daryl jumped up as she ran over and dropped into a defensive crouch, knife raised and muscles tensed to attack or defend.

"Come to finish the job, bitch?" he growled viciously, circling her as he tried to get her to let her guard down for just a split second.

"Look behind you, jackass," Michonne stated darkly.

"Nice try, shitskin," Daryl snapped back. "I wasn' born yesterday."

The racial slur made Michonne take a small step back and a flicker of hurt to pass through her eyes, but she remained firm.

"Listen here, Deliverence," she said calmly, getting her jab in while she was at it, "I'm gonna lay my weapons down and you're gonna do the same...and I have something to show you."

She laid her rifle slowly on the ground in front of her, then her katana, then her smaller knife and stepped back from the pile. Daryl eyed her cautiously, his eyes scanning her frame for more weapons. But he finally sheathed the buck knife and relaxed his stance a bit, allowing her to point behind him without the fear of losing her hand...or life for it.

Daryl moved off to the side so he could keep an eye on her while he also looked at what was behind him. When he spotted the pile of red stained camo, his shoulder dropped and his jaw went slack. He slowly turned to look back at Michonne and his face looked so horrified that Michonne almost felt sorry for him...almost.

"See, you ignorant hick?" she snapped, glad to able to get in his face without worrying about him stabbing her now. "I just saved your worthless white ass and you have the nerve to suspect me? I could have let you die, you don't mean anything to me! This is my group too now, I have nowhere else to go, so you better get used to the idea."

Daryl's eyes were wide and he was leaning back slightly as she got into his personal space, jabbing a finger into his chest.

"And if I ever hear you call me anything like that again...I'll kick your ass up to your eyeballs."

With that, she spun on her heels and collected her weapons before returning to her duty on watch, leaving Daryl to handle the dead body of the stranger.

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Daryl watched her leave feeling very much put in his place, his chest hurt where she had poked him repeatedly and he rubbed the spot absentmindedly. Damn...the girl had spunk. He felt like an asshole as he watched her climb back up to the guardtower to resume watch duty, she had just saved his life and he had insulted her before she could even explain.

"Damn it, Dixon," he muttered to himself as he eyed the dead man behind him. "She really coulda just let you die..."

He wasn't sure what to do with the body, but he stripped it of anything useful. The machete he was carrying (_that he was about to slice my head off with!)_, the camo jacket and pants, a smaller knife on his belt, and his combat boots were about all the guy had so it wasn't a huge haul.

Daryl approached the gate sheepishly but Michonne let him in without even a hateful look and his regret swelled in him like a freaking water balloon as he walked into the safety of the prison yard.

Dropping the stuff in his arms he swung up onto the ladder of the guard tower and climbed up. Michonne gave him an annoyed look when he lifted himself up into the tower, but then she just looked out the window and ignored him.

"Hey," he said lamely, wondering what exactly he had to say to her, "I...I guess thank you."

"I guess you're welcome," Michonne muttered back, unamused.

Daryl ran a hand through his radily lengthening hair, reminding him he was long overdue for a cut from Lori, and sighed heavily.

"Look...I ain't good at this apologizin' shit," he admitted, "But I owe ya one and I'm sorry I judged ya before ya could explain."

Michonne spun the seat around and leaned back against the desk, her eyes were cold as she looked at him with distaste.

"Your apologies don't mean much, Dixon," she said with a sniff like she had a bad smell under her nose, "You aren't worth anything more to me than a full stomach. But you're not even important for that as long as we have a steady supply of supplies."

Daryl felt a little twinge of a familiar feeling inside...his father had always said he was worthless too, and Merle had only driven that nail further into his already wounded self esteem. Hunting was the one thing he was best at, no one could track like he could...and yet, that was all he had over anyone else. He wasn't anything special.

Nodding in defeat, he backed slowly out of the guard box.

"I know," he whispered, not knowing why he even said it. Maybe he was only confirming it to himself. "I am sorry though. For the record, you ain't a shitskin...you're a real pretty color actually."

And with that, he swung over the edge and climbed down faster than Michonne's brain could register what she had just done to him. She felt guilt wash over her as she thought about the look in his eyes and the way he had backed up like he was cornered. She jumped up and almost called out to him, but she just couldn't quite find it in herself to want him to come back so she kept quiet as she watched him walk, head down, across the yard to the main building.

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**Well...we're getting closer to them finding a mutual understanding. It takes a while to build a romance between two such very strong personalities, but I promise it's coming!**

**Reviews would be awesome to wake up to tomorrow (or...later today I guess since it's 4:30 A.M.) so dump your thoughts on me and I'll try to get these chapters up faster!**


	4. Glass

**I didn't sleep at all last night...I guess I drank WAY too much coffee at 11 P.M.! I'm wired for sound and watched The Walking Dead all morning! *bounces up and down* I can't freaking sit still, I feel like Norman Reedus in an interview will all my twitching and fiddling!**

**But I shall take this energy and pour it into another chapter, how about that?**

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"Nuh uh! Not a chance!"

Daryl raised his hands and shook his head as he backed away from the conversation in front of him. Rick turned and glared at him dangerously.

"Daryl, are you questioning my decision making capabilities?" he accused.

"Rick, I'm tellin' ya, it's a bad idea!" Daryl replied, not intimidated at all. "That woman and I ain't gonna work well together!"

"You're just gonna have to LEARN to work together, aren't you?" Rick stated, folding up the map they had been viewing.

"Rick..." Daryl started to argue again, tiliting his head in that stubborn way. But Rick wasn't having it.

"Daryl, I've made the decision, it's final," he cut him off, "You wanna argue some more, go talk to that fence because you ain't getting no more of a reply from me."

Daryl watched Rick leave with fire in his gaze, glaring imaginary daggers into him as he left. The man had to be crazy sending him out with Michonne on a supply run.

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"Whose bright idea was this again?" Michonne complained as she slid into the passenger seat of Daryl's truck.

"Look, missy, I ain't exactly thrilled by the arrangement either but I ain't arguin' no more," Daryl said through clenched teeth, "So just do what I tell ya and don't get bit. In and out, quick and easy."

"That your motto for everything?" Michonne asked with a hint of mischief. Daryl only looked at her for a long moment through narrowed eyes before he turned the key and the truck raored to life. T-Dog opened the gate and they were off to the small town about eight miles to the south.

They drove in silence, both thinking of how their day could be better spent, until Michonne couldn't handle the tension anymore.

"So what exactly are we getting here?" she asked, nonchalantly.

"Pretty much a food and meds run," Daryl replied, strangely without contempt in his tone.

"Practical," Michonne nodded with approval.

"Best to be practical nowdays," Daryl agreed.

"So...what I said to you the toher day," Michonne didn't know why she was bringing it up, "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful for what you do for this group."

"Well, you're right," he said simply, shrugging and looking out the window as he started chewing on his thumb. "Not like I've been bringing a lot back lately anyhow. Animals are starting to hunker down for winter, game's gettin' thin."

Michonne was about to argue but the truck began to slow down and rolled to a stop just outside the town. Daryl left the keys in the ignition in case they needed a fast get away and grabbed his crossbow from the back, slinging it on his shoulder as he always did. Michonne followed behind him as he walked slowly, his eyes scanning for danger or anything out of the ordinary.

He must have felt satisfied that they were safe for now because he stood up straight from his hunter's crouch and let the crossbow point down as his arms relaxed and his grip loosened slightly. Michonne looked around at the ramshackled buildings on the outskirts of town and exhaled sharply, causing Daryl to jump and face her.

"Sorry," she whispered, "Just...thinking of something that made me mad."

"What?" he asked, not really sounding all that interested.

"My town I came from," Michonne replied anyway, just for the sake of having a distraction. "It was a pretty small town but people were good to eachother, you know? Until they got the disease and started ripping eachother apart, that is. Whole town went down in less than three days."

"Sorry t' hear it," Daryl stated, sounding almost genuine.

"It's the past," Michonne blew him off and pointed toward a drug store on the corner of what must have been the main street. They approached it cautiously and took down a walker that was behind the counter when they entered.

"Anything specific?" Michonne asked as she scanned the picked over shelves.

"Nope," Daryl replied, "Take it all, I say."

And so Michonne's bag was dedicated to being filled almost to the brim with boxes of pills, tubes of creams, bottles of caplets, lozenges, liquid meds and a few packs of cigarettes she found in what looked like an employee's secret hiding place. When they had satisfactorily cleaned the place out, they moved on to the next store. That next store was an antique shop.

"You know, most people would think of this place last," Michonne stated when they opened the door to find the place nearly untouched. "But all this stuff, if it works, could come in handy!"

They searched through the place and took anything of use, including some old cast iron pans Carol and Lori would be glad to see.

After they had hit the grocery store at the other side of town, their bags were filled and they made their way back to the truck, incident free.

"You know, I don't think we did so bad together, do you?" Michonne asked, wondering if he was still as bitter about being partnered with her for te run as he was earlier.

"You ain't so bad, I guess," Daryl admitted grudgingly.

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On their way back, Michonne pointed off to the side of the road. A car was in the ditch that definitely hadn't been there when they had come through earlier.

"Maybe someone's hurt," Michonne stated as Daryl pulled the truck to a stop up on the road. She jumped right out and headed for the car. She heard the truck door slam behind her and Daryl let out a small string of curses before she felt a firm grip on her elbow, yanking her back before she could reach the vehicle.

"Get your stupid ass back," Daryl's growl was a little frightening as he planted himself squarely in front of her, glaring. Michonne, with all her stubborness and strength, felt her determination crumble under that icy blue look and she stepped back slightly and nodded. "I'll check it out, but don't fuckin' jump the gun again. You're my responsibility right now."

"I'm perfectly capable..."

"Didn't say ya weren't," Daryl cut her off sharply, "But as long as yer out 'ere with me, I'm callin' the shots. Call it...seniority."

"I doubt you're that much older than me," Michonne challenged, in no mood to be treated like a child.

"It don't matter," Daryl replied as he turned to make his way to the car, "This is my group you're gettin' into, so I'll make the calls."

Michonne crossed her arms and watched in silent anger as the redneck approached the car with his crossbow raised to his shoulder, his body took up that defensive stance again and she found herself admiring the silence with which he moved, like a cat stalking a bird. He was good, she had to admit, he knew what he was doing.

Daryl eyed the driver's side door with suspicion, the window was shattered and glass was all over inside but there was no sign of any driver or passengers. Doing a quick sweep of the back seat and under the car, he slowly opened the door and leaned in carefully to reach the glovebox. It only held typical things like the title to the car, insurance papers, napkins, stuff like that so he shut it and backed out, looking around the nearby area in confusion.

"I don't get it," Michonne called to him, "They couldn't have gone far, and they naturally would have made their way towards the town if they went anywhere."

Daryl nodded and turned to face her, his mouth open as if he was about to speak when his words, whatever they might have been, were transformed into a terrified holler and Michonne watched in horror as a walker emerged from beneath the car, it's dead grip around Daryl's left ankle. Daryl freaked out and threw himself backwards into the car, right hand grippinf the steering wheel and left hand spread out behind him to steady himself, he yanked his leg from the walker's grip and pushed himself back to the passenger side just as Michonne beheaded it with one swift swing of her katana.

She stood there looking at him with a sneer on her face.

"Told you they couldn't have gone far," she stated snippily.

But Daryl didn't react the way she expected, with a glare and returning sneer, no he was looking at her with wide, frightened eyes, panting in panic. Michonne scanned over him and saw the blood staining the seat beside him.

"You're bit, aren't you?" she asked numbly.

"No, not bit," Daryl hissed through his tightly clenched teeth, he raised his left hand to prove it and Michonne covered her mouth with a hand to bite back the gasp she felt coming. Definitely not bitten, but a huge shard of glass was embedded deep in his palm just under his thumb, several good sized chunks glittered under the steadily oozing blood and Michonne automatically grabbed his arm to check his wrists. There was a nice sized cut there too, she didn't see any glass remaining in it, but there was a steady stream of blood and she though he may have nicked something important.

"C'mon, hayseed, let's get you back before you bleed to death," Michonne gripped his right arm and pulled him up from where he had laid back on the seat, he groaned in pain but he didn't fight and stood up easily, although he swayed slightly at the change of position.

"I ain't gonna bleed ta death," he stated darkly, pulling the greasy rag out of his back pocket, he went to wrap it around his wrist.

"Don't!" Michonne yanked the rag away, "That thing's disgusting! It's got animal blood, grease and who the hell know what else on it and you'll get yourself a nice infection if you're stupid enough to use it as a bandage!"

"Well, then maybe I _will_ bleed to death," Daryl snapped back, clearly trying to sound more macho than he felt. She could see the pain in his eyes and the way his face was twitching.

"Use your slee...oh, damn it," Michonne rolled her eyes, "Why can't you wear sleeves like every other person on this planet."

"Get in my way," he stated simply.

"Well then use your shirt," Michonne stated simply.

It was a simple suggestion and it made perfect sense, but Daryl eyed her nervously, almost...distrustful. His eyes seemed to search her face for some hidden motive or something, Michonne wasn't quite sure what was going through his mind. Finally, he hung his head in defeat and nodded before pulling the shirt over his head.

Michonne couldn't help it, she let out a little gasp of shock as her eyes took in the angry discolorations that were spattered over his entire torso. Pink, puckered lines and faded silvery lines and one exceptionally dark, jagged line just under his collarbone. Good Lord, who had done this to him?

"Now ya know why I didn't wanna do this," Daryl said quietly as he ripped a few strips from the material and began wrapping his wrist.

"Who...?"

"Don't matter who," Daryl's patience had run out, and his pain tolerance was dropping by the second as the sharp throbbing pain shot up his arm with each heartbeat. "Jus'...let's get to Herschel."

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Michonne leaned against the doorway as she watched Herschel examine Daryl's injuries. He tsked a little when he saw the cut on his wrist and Maggie immediately went to the cabinet and brought back a needle and stitching thread. Daryl eyed it with trepidation and his features pinched in fearfulness as Herschel threaded the needle.

"This is gonna sting, not gonna lie," Herschel stated, "Michonne, can I borrow your hands for a minute?"

"Sure, doc," Michonned pushed off the doorframe and slowly approached, avoiding Daryl's gaze. "What do you need?"

"Can you just stabilize his arm there?" Herschel pointed to the crook of Daryl's elbow and Michonne carefully placed on hand on the clenched muscles below it and one on above on his bicep. She shouldn't have liked how he felt, but she couldn't help but admire the raw strength under that pale, tight skin. Daryl looked up at her, nervousness etched in his face, to avoid looking at what was happening to his wrist. When the initial thread pulled through his skin, Daryl's eyes squinted shut and he sucked in a sharp hissing breath and held it for a moment before exhaling with a whimper of pain, Michonne felt herself wince.

"That's the worst part," Herschel stated, "Like that first shock when you get a tattoo."

"That don't feel nowhere near as pleasant as a tattoo, doc!" Daryl moaned as the thread pulled tight. "Trust me."

Michonne's eyes scanned his body at his words and she spotted the implied tattoos quickly. On his right shoulderblade, two winged demons with outstretched wings rose up and under his arm, a third peaked out. His right hand was clenched tight on the arm of the chair and she noticed a tiny black star above his thumb. She reminded herself to ask him about them one day.

"Fuuuucccckkk..." Daryl growled as the final stich pulled through, closing the gash and significantly redusing the bleeding. Maggie handed Herschel a guaze pad and medical tape and he secured it over the stitches.

"Ok, halway there," he stated as he handed Maggie back the needle and thread.

"Halfway?" Daryl groaned.

"Gotta get this glass out," Herschel said calmly and simply.

"I can do it, doc," Michonne found herself speaking up and she wanted to smack herself.

Herschel looked up at her with confused look and Daryl looked out of the corner of his eye with doubt.

"I...have medical experience," Michonne confirmed.

Herschel looked skeptical, but he nodded and went over to the sink to wash the blood off his hands. Daryl got a panicked look on his face when he and Maggie left them alone, he eyed her carefully as she washed her hands and started looking through drawers in the medical cabinet.

"Just, uh, how much medical experience ya got?" he asked quietly when she turned around again, her hands held some sharp looking things.

"I was a military medic," Michonne stated, her eyes challenging him to make something of the situation. "Graduated second in my class."

"Well where's the guy who graduated first in your class?" Daryl asked, his voice getting slightly higher as she sat in front of him and lifted his hand back up onto the stainless steel side table.

"Probably dead," Michonne stated humorlessly, she eyed the glass pieces to decid which to pull first. Smallest to largest would be best so she could wrap him up as soon as she got that big one out that was bleeding the worst.

"Why didn't you just let Herschel do it?" he asked quietly as she laid out her tweezers, gauze, tape, alcohol and needle and thread just in case that big one went deep than she thought.

"I figured I should keep up on my skills," Michonne stated simply. She slid her under under the back of his and gripped gently to steady it as she dabbed a cottonball in the alcohol. "This is going to sting like shit."

Daryl groaned deep in his throat when she dabbed the wet cotton on his palm, his eyes clenched tight and his left leg started bouncing up and down rapidly as he tried to diffuse the pain. Michonne smiled at that, it was quite a different way of coping.

"Sorry," she said apologetically, "But we don't need you getting an infection."

"Funny you say that considering we're all already infected with the worst disease possible..." Daryl muttered with absolutely no humor. Michonne looked up at from her bent over position.

"Don't think that way," she stated softly, "It doesn't really matter anymore, does it?"

"Guess not," he replied, not meeting her eyes.

Michonne set down the cotton ball and picked up the tweezers. She saw Daryl's entire body tense as she brought them down to the pad of his hand, just under his ring finger.

"You need to calm down a little or you're going to pass out from lack of oxygen," Michonne observed, she laid the tweezers down and took his hand in both of hers, her thumbs rubbed the skin where it wasn't cut and her fingers ran along the back of it in an effort to calm him down. He just looked at her with an odd expression and a wince now and then if she got too close to a cut. "Better?"

"A little," Daryl's voice sounded gruff, porbably from all the strain.

"Ok, here we go," Michonne talked to him like she was soothing a scared horse, but it was working so she kept it up. She pulled the first chunk out pretty easily and the smaller ones with no problem. There was a good sized sliver between his thumb and finger that got a sharp yelp out of him when she pulled it. Finally...they came to the last one.

"That one's in there deep," Michonne commented, "This is not going to be pleasant."

"Just get it the fuck out of me," Daryl said sadly, his shoulders slumped.

"I will, chill," Michonne said with annoyance, she moved his hand from the table onto her thigh, laying it flat out as she leaned over, blocking his view. His leg started bouncing at top speed and she heard him whimper from the fear of not knowing what she was doing to him. Michonne carefully gripped the large chunk of glass and gave it a firm yank, pulling it out clean.

Daryl let out a chocked yell that was halfway mixed with a growl as he leaned forward and clutched his hand, curling into an automatic fetal position, which brought his forehead right into Michonne's shoulder as he steadied his breathing and rode out the waves of pain. When he leaned back, he looked at her with eyes that glistened with unshed tears.

"Let me see," she demanded and he slowly released his hold on himself and raised his palm to her with a look Michonne could only describe as a puppy with a thorn in his paw. "Well you won't need stitches, so that's a good thing."

"Fuck yeah, it is!" Daryl said with a pained chuckle. Michonne smiled slightly as she pressed the sterile guaze pad onto his palm and began wrapping the tape around it. She eyed it with satisfaction when she finished and laid the tape on the table with the other things.

"Other hand," she demanded, realizing she hadn't even bothered to examine the rest of him for injury.

"It's fine," Daryl stated as he held it out, flipping it up then down then up again. "See?"

Michonne saw that he was not at all injured but she found herself grabbing hold of his hand anyway. She ran her thumbs up and down his long, thick fingers and traced his calloused palms with her fingertips, admiring the strength his work hardened hands displayed. Little scars were present there as well, and she traced then gently, her eyes scanning the creases of his palm as she flipped it over. She ran her thumbs over the veins in his wrist and he suddenly yanked his hand back, making her jump in surprise.

"Told you it was fine," he stated, eyeing her with confusion.

"Just double checking," Michonne lied. Honestly, she didn't know what had just possessed her.

"Well, thanks, but I've got things to do," Daryl stood, looking highly uncomfortable, his still bare chest twitched slightly as if he only just rememberd he didn't have his shirt. "Thanks for the patch up."

Michonne just nodded as he walked past and she began picking up the instruments to clean and disinfect them. But she heard the clomping of his boots hesitate by the doorway.

"Michonne..."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for havin' my back today."

****

**So, right in the middle of writing this, I crashed so...it's a little later than planned. **

**I got this idea at 3 A.M. and I think it's a good step towards their trust building. REVIEW, my awesome readers :D**


	5. Knots

**So, I'm not really sure what to do with this chapter, but we'll see what my brain thinks of while I write!**

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Daryl ran the whetstone over the blade of his buck knife, smiling slightly at the sound of the scrape on the metal. He eyed the pile of knives, machetes and axes beside him that he had to sharpen and sighed, but it was better than doing nothing. It was pouring rain outside, thunder cracks shook the prison occasionally and lightning lit up the room. No point in even attempting to hunt, nothing would be out in this.

So he sat there in the almost silence, the only sound was the sharpening and the thunder. He was use to silence, he liked it in fact, but for some reason he felt on edge and he looked up suddenly and scanned the room.

Shaking his head and chalking it off as being over cautious and bowed his head back down as he focused on the blade of the axe he had picked up. Out of pure boredom, he began to whistle no particular tune and occasionally broke off into humming or softly singing the words, off key, he assumed, but he didn't really care.

"You sound happy," a voice made him jump, almost slicing his already injured hand on the axe. He looked up with a glare as Michonne walked in and he wanted to smack himself for thinking about the way her hips naturally swayed as she walked toward him. "What are you singing?"

"Wasn't really thinking about it," he admitted, going back to his work. Michonne sat down on the floor next to him and picked up his buck knife to examine it.

"That's a really nice knife you got there," she commented. "Can I help?"

Daryl eyed her suspiciously but her handed her a whetstone and a machete. Michonne knew what she was doing so he didn't bother explaining the procedure.

"So do you trust me yet?" she asked after a while, she didn't look at him or anything, she just...said it like it was nothing.

"Well..." Daryl thought about it for a while, "I don't have any reason no t' I guess. But, I still have some...concerns."

"Yeah, I don't trust you yet either," Michonne replied, not sounding at all put off by his statement.

"Good t' know," Daryl mumbled, setting the axe aside.

"But I guess I trust you just enough to be friends," Michonne added softly.

Daryl looked over at her with an unsure expression, but when she raised her eyes from the machete and smiled at him. It was s genuine smile and her chocolate brown eyes glinted as a flash of lightning split the sky outside and lit the room and Daryl felt the corner of his mouth twitch almost involuntarily.

"I guess we can trust eachother that much," he agreed, "I guess I kinda owe you for savin' my ass."

"Twice."

"Hey, I woulda got that one under the car, ya just happened to get there first," Daryl argued.

"Sure you would've, Tim McGraw," Michonne teased, "You totally had everything under control."

"Shut yer trap, lady," Daryl grumbled, "I've gotten outta plenty o' tight scrapes without ya."

"Well, maybe I'm your guardian angel then," Michonne stated stubbornly, "Face it, Dixon, you need me."

Daryl watched her work for a while while he uncrossed his legs to stretch them out from sitting there for so long. He stretched his arms behind his back and twisted, popping his back loudly.

"Yikes!" Michonne laughed, "That sounded a little painful!"

"Naw," Daryl responded with a mumble, he rubbed his shoulder firmly where the muscles were tight from the monotonous movement of sharpening, "Tell you what hurts is my fuckin' shoulders."

Michonne looked over at him, watching him closely while keeping her expression neutral. He looked so pathetic sitting there like he was, legs straight out in front of him, right hand rubbing his neck and left shoulder, his eyes dropped closed as he sighed heavily. But since his left hand was out of commission for a while, he could only twist his right shoulder to try and relieve the tension.

"Need some help there?" she asked out loud, and she wanted to bite her tongue off for betraying her thought.

Daryl immediately stopped moving and his eyes popped open. His expression became calculating and he looked at her from under his brow and she found herself unable to move or think when he had her pegged like that. Finally, he dropped his eyes and nodded.

"If you would, I ain't gonna say no," he said dully.

Michonne smiled slightly as she stood and moved to kneel behind him. She gently laid her hands on his shoulders and felt him tense under her touch.

"Hey," she said softly, "Relax, redneck."

Daryl sniff-laughed nervously but he let his muscles relax as Michonne dug her palms into shoulder blade and her fingers into the muscle where his neck and shoulder connected and sqeezed expertly. She felt the firm tension of his muscles as they normally were and also the random spots where the knots crackled under her hands, causing Daryl to flinch and make a small sound of discomfort. She pressed her fingertips into one exceptionally tense spot and he jerked forward with a yelp.

"Ow, that hurts!" he snapped, Michonne grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back up.

"I know it," she said firmly, "But no pain no gain. You have to work it out or it's just going to build up more."

Daryl grunted as she dug in again but he didn't pull away again, he just bit his lip and moaned every once in a while. Michonne could feel the crackling starting lessen as he knot worked loose under her fingers and eventually he stopped his little whimpers and she knew it was gone so she slid her hands down to his upper back and made fists, twisting them in half circles while pressed.

"Mmmm..." Daryl's deep, guttural moan made her hesitate for a second.

"That shouldn't hurt," she claimed.

"I doesn't," he replied with the same deep, rumbling tone. "Don't fuckin' stop now."

Michonne laughed but continued her pushes and kneading, working slowly down his back. Michonne found herself admiring the feel of his warm, firm muscles under his skin and she wondered just where this was coming from exactly, she didn't find him attractive at all. Not _really _anyway. Sure, he had gorgeous eyes and he was strong and woods-smart, and he walked with a kind of cute strut, but seriously she had no idea when she had noticed any of these things. When her hands slid down to the small of his back he jumped up suddenly and cleared his throat.

"Hey, uh, thanks," he stuttered, "I have to..."

"You're awful jumpy, Dixon," Michonne said with a teasing grin.

He just laughed humorlessly and picked up the pile of newly sharpened weapons as he backed towards the door, his eyes looking at her like he was sizing her up. He nodded as he pushed the bars open his his butt and then turned the corner, heading towards the storage room. Michonne sighed and wondered what the heck her mind was doing to her.

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

**So, there's some more, slowly building towards attraction. Next chapter we'll start working on Daryl's mind ;)**

**Let me know if you have any ideas on how we can accomplish this. Seriously, guys, I want to know if you have any ideas!**


	6. Snip, Snip

**It's 3:40 in the morning...I'm developing Vampire Syndrome (no, nothing to do with stupid Twilight or crap, I mean when you sleep all day and are awake at night, light starts hurting your eyes if you don't have much sunlight...THAT Vampire Syndrome.) But whatever, I'll be taking midnight shift on the ambulance anyway, might as well get use to it.**

**Back into the fray! Time to play with Daryl's mind!**

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

The storm had left the prison yard full of mudpuddles and when Daryl came back from hunting he found Carl pouncing in them, splashing brown filthy water all over him. Daryl cracked a grin at him as he walked by, almost wishing he could join in, mudding had been one of his favorite stress relievers when he was a teenager and he missed the feel of the cool Georgia mud flinging up to smack into him as Merle tore through the fields while he hung on in the truck bed or vise versa. Mud...it must be a boy thing.

Daryl took the cleaned and skinned rabbit and squirrels into the kitchen where Carol was taking inventory of what he and Michonne had brought back yesterday.

"Thank, Daryl, just set them over there on that table," she directed when she saw the string of small game. He nodded and did as he was told, giving her a small smile as he walked back by on his way out. He liked Carol, she was one of the people in this group he managed not to get completely annoyed by, she kept to herself and did the jobs no one else seemed to want to do. She was a good woman, he could tell.

_You know who else is a pretty good woman? _his mind suddenly mused as he walked back out to the prison yard, _Michonne._

_**Whoa, whoa! What are you talking about?**_

_Come on, don't pretend you haven't been thinking about her all day._

_**I'm just trying to figure her out. It's nothin' more than that.**_

_Mmhm, and next you'll be denying you loved that little massage you got last night._

_**Of course I did, I really needed it. Just because she was the one who did it don't mean nothin'.**_

_Suit yourself..._

"Hey, Daryl," Carl's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Mom said she could cut your hair this afternoon if you still want her to."

Daryl looked at Carl for a second before registering what he said.

"Oh, yeah, uh, thanks," he mumbled. At that moment, Michonne walked out from around the corner of the main building, patroling the fence line. She spotted the two of them and walked over and Daryl found his eyes locking on her hips again despite himself.

"Hey, you two," she said as she popped her hip to stand with her arms crossed, "Having fun in the mud."

"I am!" Carl made his point by jumping to the next puddle.

"You gonna join him, Daryl?" Michonne asked with a snarky grin.

Daryl didn't know what came over him, but he got a wicked idea in his head. He gave her a millisecond of warning by twitching the corner of his mouth before he jumped into the puddle at just the perfect angle to send chunks of mud and splashed of mucky water right over her.

He stood in the puddle, mid-shin deep in it, and smiled at her like a madman. Michonne simply stood there without even looking surprised, arms still crossed and hip still popped. A small glob of mud was sliding from her temple down her cheek as she stared him down.

"Think that's funny?" she asked him quietly.

"Hell yeah," he replied, not knowing where this boldness had come from.

"Then I'm sure you'll find this an absolute scream," Michonne stated a moment before she reached out and grabbed his shoulders, her leg swept out and caught him behind the knees, causing him to buckle and go down with her following right along. They both floundered in the large mud puddle and Daryl shook his shaggy hair out of his eyes and stared at her in disbelief.

"What the fuck!" he hollered, not really angry, just surprised.

Michonne didn't answer, couldn't answer, she was laughing so hard. Daryl felt something inside him flip at the sound of her laugh. It was hearty and higher pitched than her normal low toned speaking voice, her lips pulled back over her remarkably white teeth and her eyes squinted shut as she tossed her dread over her should.

"Oh man, Dixon, your face was priceless!" she said after she caught her breath.

Daryl growled and pushed himself back onto his feet, glad he had held the crossbow out of the mud, he didn't feel like cleaning it. He eyed her with amusement as she just sat in the mud and looked up at him, still grinning like crazy. He rolled his eyes and stuck out his uninjured hand for her to take, which she did, and he pulled her to her feet. The momentum of the pull made her collide into him slightly and he took a quick step away.

"Sorry," she said, "Overcompensated."

Daryl just gave her a nod and turned to go find something to change into, secretly smiling to himself as he walked with his back to her. The girl had spunk, he had to admit, she wasn't really as hard shelled as he thought she would be when he first saw her, chained walkers stumbling along behind her dark hooded figure.

_And pretty too._

_**Ugh! Stop it.**_

_Come on, think about it. The way she sways when she walks, those big brown eyes you just can't seem to look at for too long before getting weak in the knees, those big pouty lips..._

_**Ok, you can stop now...**_

_That skin the color of melted dark chocolate that probably tastes just as good..._

_**Fuckin' stop it!**_

Daryl shook his head, not knowing exactly where this was all coming from! There was no way he could ever be attracted to her, they were at opposite ends of every spectrum imaginable!

Daryl found Lori dragging Carl by the ear towards his room, she was speckled with mud and Daryl had a feeling the boy's mud jumping had gone too far...

"Daryl, sorry, you're gonn have to get someone else to cut your hair," she stated as she walked by with Carl, "I have to give my son a talking too."

Daryl nodded in understanding and gave Carl a wink of encouragement.

"I can do it for you," the voice made him spin around and clutch his chest.

"Geez, why does it seem you're always right behind me?" he snapped.

"Well sometimes it's true, I am," she replied simply, "But mostly...you're paranoid. Now, come on out to the alley, well get you trimmed up, Shaggy."

Daryl grabbed the scissors from the table where Lori had left them and followed Michonne out to the alleyway between the buildings. Michonne had grabbed a chair along the way and she set it down and motioned for him to take it. He hesitantly handed the scissors to her, the fact that they were alone in the rarely used alleyway and she had sharp ass scissors in her hands and could easily stick them in his jugular at any given moment made him a little nervous.

"It's a hair cut, not a guillotine," Michonne joked when she saw his face. "I promise, I won't even nick you if I can help it."

Daryl sniffed, obviously not amused or comforted, but sat down backwards on the chair, his arms and chin rested on the back of it.

"Got a towel or something to catch it in?" Michonne asked, "It's gonna go down your shirt."

Daryl groaned and simply pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it aside, and returned his chin to his arm. He didn't know why he suddenly didn't care if she saw the scars, maybe because she already knew about them so it didn't matter anymore. He just hoped she wouldn't ask about them again.

He felt the cold metal of the scissors on the back of his neck and he tensed up, but the first snip occured without bloodshed so he relaxed a little bit, and a little more, and a little more with each clip. Soon he relaxed completely and just started following her orders to turn his head, raise his chin, etc.

"Ta da!" Michonne proclaimed with one last tiny snip. "I think I did a pretty good job if I do say so myself."

Daryl was about to make a smart ass remark but it got lost on the way from his brain to his mouth when he felt her long, thin fingers thread into his hair. His eyes drooped closed as her fingers twisted in his significantly shorter, much choppier cut and he let out a long sigh of satifaction. He would never admit it to anyone, but he had always been a fan of girl who grabbed him by the hair during sex or...anytime, it was one one of those things that drove him crazy. That thought brought him back to earth and he reached up to bat her hands away.

"Alright, alright," he said snippishly, standing up and pushing the chair away.

"I just wanted to see how good a job I did," Michonne defended, she didn't look at all embarressed or ashamed of her actions and Daryl didn't even know what he was so bothered about. He simply drug his own hand through his new do and smiled slightly.

"Forgot how good it feel short," he stated.

"Looks good too," Michonne said, matter-of-factly, eyeing him with a little half smile.

Daryl squinted at her oddly before bending over to grab his shirt from the ground. He pulled it on and he almost swore he saw a flash of diappointment in Michonne's dark eyes...but no way had he actually seen that. Not possible. Not him.

"Thanks for the snip," he said with a nod, he shouldered his crossbow once again and walked past her towards the guard tower that he would take up duty in within ten minutes.

"Hey, Daryl," Michonne said from behind him. He paused and looked over his shoulder. She almost looked like was about to say something before she hesitated and then shook her head sadly, her eyes met his and she gave him a friendly grin, "Have fun on watch."

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

**So, they're getting closer. Taking it easy for now. Promise, they will be mutually attracted soon enough! Let me know your thoughts, further ideas (thanks to lucifergotosea for the haircut idea!), and opinions! Seriously, I love input guys!**

**Push that little review button down there! It's an awesome button!**


	7. Concern

**Good morning (Or...afternoon, I guess!). Decided to get a tattoo and my friend was like "If you can wait ten days, I'll take you and we'll get mine too and I'll pay for yours since it's your birthday!" I'm so excited!**

**Anywho, onward.**

****

Daryl stared out the glass of the guard tower, feet propped up on the ledge of the window in front of him, arms crossed behind his head, rifle leaned against the wrap around desktop. He was bored. Bored as hell. No sooner had this thought left his mind that the door behind him opened and he spun the chair around and grabbed his buck knife from it's sheath at the same time, going into automatic defense mode.

"Whoa, there, Crocodile Dundee," Michonne's amused tone made him calm down almost immediately and he resheathed the knife with a sigh.

"What d'ya want?" he asked, not unfriendly, just asking.

Michonne didn't answer right away, she just stood there in the doorway with her hip popped in that way that made him crazy and stared right back at him, her dark eyes locked on his and Daryl felt like he was being sized up. Then she was walking towards him, covering the short distance in three confident steps, and she stood right in front of him, his eyes at the level of her belly. He tilted his head back to look up at her, she looked down at him with a wicked smile on her face before she leaned down and wrapped her hands around his wrists, pinning them to the arms of the chair. Icy cold fear shot up Daryl's spine and he tried his best to yank himself out of her grip but she held him fast, staring into his eyes as she got on her knees to come down to eye level.

"You really want to know what I want?" she whispered, Daryl's eyes flicked down to her lips and he watched them move with curiosity, wondering what it would be like to kiss a black woman...he'd never even considered it before.

"Yeah," he meant to sound normal but it came out in a whisper as he looked back into her eyes. Beautiful dark eyes...

"How about I show you instead?" Michonne leaned forward to whisper these words in his ear and he felt goosebumps rise on his skin...and another significant "raise" elsewhere as well. Michonne's eyes dropped down and then back to his. "I'll take that as a yes."

Daryl brain started to freak out as she slid her hands from his wrists and unhesitantly brought them to the front of his jeans, immediately undoing his belt and slipping it off to the floor. He gulped as her fingers popped the button of his jeans and he started to hyperventilate when she unzipped them.

"What are you...?"

"I think you know exactly what I'm doing," Michonne cut him off, her eyes daring him to even try to stop her. Hell...why would he _want _to?

Daryl leaned his head back with a hiss when her right hand slipped into his jeans and gripped him firmly, almost too firmly but he wasn't about to tell her so. He couldn't even think straight, but he managed to lift his head and look down at her as she pulled him out, and found she was already looking up at him with a cocky grin.

"Not so bad for a white guy," she said, giving him a squeeze to emphasize her word.

"Shiiiit," Daryl sighed as the jolt of long forgotten pleasure ran through every nerve ending he possessed. It had been WAY too long, but in this day and age you learned to supress things like emotions and sexual tension.

But she wasn't giving him any chance to think about how wrong it was to take his focus off his job as watchman, or even how wrong this was in general, as she slid her tongue down the length of him and nipped lightly each time he hardened a little more. Before he could even fully comprehend that bolt of endorphins, she had wrapped her lips around him and ducked her head to take every last inch of him in her mouth.

"Fuck!" he gasped breathlessly as he clutch the arms of the chair just out of the need to hold onto something. He felt her smile, which was something he'd never felt before, girls didn't smile when they did this, not in his experience. But Michonne was looking up at him with hungry eyes as she twirled her tongue around him and it was driving him crazy so he leaned his head back again and closed his eyes tight as he felt that familiar pressure building, letting out a loud groan as she started bobbing her head faster, working him into a near frenzy.

Daryl felt every muscle in his body go tense and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but he didn't fuckin' care because he damn well needed this. His breathing turned into frantic panting and he felt his jaw go slack as he stared up at the cieling of the guard tower, he could feel that wave of awesome relief about to crash into him when...

Daryl's eyes jerked open. He couldn't focus for a second and he blinked furiously in the darkness and then it suddenly hit him...dreaming. He'd just had a fucking wet dream about Michonne! That thought made him panic and look down, he sighed with relief when he realized he hadn't quite finished that dream, he was hard as stone inside his cargos.

"Damn it..." he muttered, running a hand over his face, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He rolled off the bottom bunk and grabbed his crossbow off the top and headed down to the showers to take care of this sudden problem.

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Maybe it was her imagination, but Michonne thought there was something different in the way Daryl was acting around her. He kept looking over at her out of the corner of his eye during breakfast and then dropping his gaze almost looking guilty, he had kept a space of about ten feet between them all day as they patrolled the edge of the woods together, and when they took down the walker they saw he had hacked it nearly to pieces with the hatchet he'd slung on his hip that morning. Something about him was just...off.

"Hey, are you ok?" she finally broke the silence between them and he looked at her in surprise, and then dropped his eyes to the ground and scuffed the dirt with his right boot heel.

"I'm fine," he murmered, clearly not wanting to talk.

"You don't act fine," Michonne pressed, "You just hacked that walker into canned dog food. You seem...stressed."

"Yeah, well then just be glad it was the walker I got to first," he growled, the threat only made Michonne more concerned.

_Why exactly am I concerned?_

_**Because you like him.**_

_Shit! What? I do not!_

_**Yes you do. You haven't been able to keep your eyes off him since you got here.**_

_Well, I'm curious about him, yes. But I'n not attracted to Daryl Dixon! He's a racist hillbilly with no manners and a horrible temper._

_**You always did have a thing for the bad boys...**_

_No, no way._

_**Come on, Michonne, look at him. That tight ass in those worm out cargo pants he always wears, that choppy, soft as hell hair that you KNOW you loved running your hands through, that crooked smile he rarely lets show, and those eyes...damn, those eyes could make any woman drop their panties.**_

Michonne growled at herself out loud and Daryl looked at her with his eyebrows bunched together ina questioning way.

"What?" he asked.

"None of your business!" Michonne snapped angrily, she felt bad for it immediately because of the kicked puppy look her got in his eyes.

"Alright, whatever," he muttered, wiping the hatchet off with the rag he always had hanging from his back pocket.

"No, not whatever," Michonne wasn't letting this go so easy. "What's bothering you?"

Daryl sighed and looked over at her, looking almost like he had something to say but then he just shook his head and took his crowbow off his back.

"I'm gonna go hunt for a bit," he stated, shutting the conversation down, "Ya alright to get back by yerself?"

Michonne just cocked an eyebrow at him, with a look that said 'You're kidding, right?' and he nodded with a little twitchy smile at the corner of his mouth before he slipped into the trees. Michonne shook her head and began her walk back to the gates, wondering what was bother their little redneck now.

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**So, this whole chapter came from a dream I had last night. But now I must get ready for class so I will try to have more up later! When I get back home at 11 tonight, I hope to see feedback! :D**


	8. Curiousity

**Whew, sorry this took so long! I've been super busy with homework and my sleep schedule is so messed up right now, I can't even...it's just crazy messed up.**

**Oh, and to Melissa: I'm getting an outline of Ireland on my right ankle with the word "bhaile" which is "home" in Irish Gaelic in the center. Because, even though I was born in America, my heart is Irish and it is my real home...I'm moving and changing citizenship in two years if all goes according to plan!**

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Michonne tapped her fingers on the desk, a bad habit she had when she was deep in thought, and wasn't even really paying much attention. In fact, she was so deep in thought that she wasn't really keeping watch like she was suppose to be doing. She couldn't help it, her eyes were trained on the figure down in the yard, shooting arrows into a target made out of a walker Andrea had taken down on patrol the other day. Her mind was running full speed as she watched him walk over and yank the arrows out of the walker's skull, all six had hit within the head and she smiled to herself in admiration at his skill.

"You're good, redneck," she murmered out loud, shaking her head slowly.

It had been a few days since their talk outside the gates and he had slowly begun to talk to her more civally and semi comfortably again, she even got a twitch of a smile out of him the other day when she made a joke about Glenn and Maggie's exploits in the storage shed.

One thing was certain, her attitude and opinion of the man had changed somehow, although she wasn't going to agree with the ridiculous part of her which claimed this to be affection. Affection, maybe, but only an affection as a member of this tight knit group, not any type of romantic attraction. No way.

But if there was no attraction, why was she watching him all the time? Why did she admire the movement of his lean muscles beneath the tan skin of his arms or the paler skin of his shoulders? Why did she find it hard to meet his bright blue eyes when he looked directly at her? Why was his thick drawl suddenly endearing instead of intimidating? Why was he suddenly more than just a redneck, but instead a provider and protector and important member of this group to her?

With an annoyed growl, she leaned back in the rotating chair and spun it in a circle to clear her mind. She did a quick walker scan before she stood, grabbed the rifle, and walked out onto the overlook to get a better view of his practicing. She watched as he raised the crossbow to his shoulder and let a bolt fly with no hesitation, which hit right in the left eye socket, then reloaded as swiftly as possible to let the next one go. He shot off all six within ten seconds and Michonne found herself thoroughly impressed at his speed and accuracy.

"He's great at that, isn't he?" a voice interrupted Michonne's studying and she turned to find Maggie standing beside her, ready to take over watch duty. "Didn't like him at first when they came to our farm, but he turned out to be a pretty good guy. Never gave up on that little girl."

Michonne's interest was piqued.

"What little girl?" she asked, her eyes flitting between Maggie and Daryl down in the yard.

"Carol's daughter, Sophia," Maggie explained, "She was separated from the group on the highway near our farm and was lot in the woods. Rick's son was injured and he came to our farm for help and he, Lori and this one guy, Shane, were too concerned with Carl to worry about Sophia."

Michonne scoffed angrily.

"I know, I know, but can you blame them?" Maggie justified, "Well anyway, they sent out small search parties occasionally, but Daryl was out there every day, all day searching for her. He seemed like the only one who really cared, to me..."

"Did he...?"

Maggie shook her head sadly.

"No," she replied with a sigh, "Well, yes...but not alive. She had been bitten and turned and he completely broke away from the group for a while, but Carol wouldn't let him go. She stood up to him and told him he mattered to the group and he slowly came back. But I know he still thinks about...sometimes he just gets this look in his eyes that just scream 'I could have done more', ya know?"

Michonne felt her chest tighten painfully. What a heavy burden to carry? But, then again, he'd done all he could so why would he feel so guilty?

"If you want to get him heated, just ask him about it," Maggie offered, "I think he NEEDS to get it off his chest, ya know? Like...therapy."

Michonne nodded silently, her eyes going back to Daryl who was now sitting on a picnic table cleaning the bolts with that nasty old rag he kept in his back pocket.

"Have a good watch, Mags," she said, handing off the rifle, "I'm gonna go give that boy some therapy."

Maggie took the rifle with a grin and nodded.

"Good luck."

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Michonne plopped down on the opposite end of the picnic table and pulled her katana from it's sheath and laid it across her knees. She pulled the whetstone from her pocket and ran it down the blade, loving the sharp metal scraping sound that issued from it. Daryl just looked up at her from under his brow and nodded a greeting.

"How'd you get so good at that, Hawkeye?" she questioned, pointing at the crossbow sitting on the table between them.

"Had t' hunt if I wanted t' eat," Daryl offered simply, "It was get good or get skinny."

Michonne laughed lightly, but that statement made her a little wary. _Had to hunt if he wanted to eat? Where were his parents?_

"So you've been hunting your whole life then?" she asked, conversationally.

"Since I was about six," he replied, not looking at her, "My pa used t' take me out, but then it turned into a way t' get out by myself, like a hobby. But not really because we ate everythin' I brought back, I don' hunt fer sport."

"Well that's admirable," Miichonne said kindly, "Hunting for sport always made me sick. I mean, they're just freaking antlers, what's the big deal?"

Daryl looked up from his arrows with an honest to God smile on his face.

"Status symbol, I guess," he stated.

"I guess..." Michonne muttered, "Pretty dumb one if you ask me."

"About as dumb as gang tattoos or ankle hugger pants," Daryl replied, intentionally referencing a common negro stereotype.

"Touche, Pa Kettle," Michonne said quietly.

They sat in silence for a long time while they took care fo their weaponry and then Daryl stood suddenly and shifted weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other and cleared his throat, not meeting Michonne's questioning eyes.

"I gotta go on patrol," he said, low enough to where Michonne had to turn her head to catch it. "Ya can come along if ya want."

Did he just open invite her to tag along with him? Did the secluded Daryl Dixon actually desire her company? Michonne nodded with her mouth slightly open in surprise and stood up, resheathing her sword. He jerked his head toward the gate and they headed in that direction.

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"Damn, another one," Daryl whispered, pointing towards a fallen tree where a walker was aimlessly leaning against it, moaning softly. Daryl raised his bow and shot it clean in the skull without so much as a flicker of regret. "They're fuckin' eatin' all the game, and there ain't that much t' begin with what with winter comin' an' all."

Michonne saw his point, she hadn't even seen a squirrel since they started this patrol.

"Yet you almost always manage to bring something back," she commented graciously, trying to make him feel better about it.

"We'll see how long that lasts," Daryl muttered as he yanked his bolt from the walker's face.

Michonne fell silent again as they walked the edge of the river bank, she was trying to think of a way to bring up the little girl and maybe get a glimpse of the side of him Carol and Maggie could see.

"You're a good tracker, I hear the others say," she said suddenly, Daryl looked at her out of the corners of his eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm not too shabby at it," he said.

"I hear you were a big part of trying to find Carol's daughter?" Michonne decided that Daryl Dixon was a man who appreciated blunt honesty so she dove right into the subject she wanted addressed. Daryl froze midstride and she saw his eyes narrow before he even turned his angry gaze on her, and when he did she almost stepped back it was so fierce.

"Who tol' ya abou' tha'?" he growled, his accent even thicker in his anger.

"Maggie," she stated confidently.

"She don' know shit," Daryl muttered darkly, "Damn nosey..."

His description of what exactly Maggie was died down and he hung his head slightly with a sigh.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "I looked for her."

"It was really important to you to find her," Michonne observed, her head cocked in sympathy "Why?"

Daryl looked up at her with a nervoud look on his face and she hoped he wouldn't bolt like a frightened horse..but he didn't, he just lifted his head and looked off to his left, his eyes took on a distant look.

"Because...she deserved t' have someone lookin' for her," he said softly, Michonne stepped a little closer so she could hear him better. "When I was a kid I got lost in the woods. I was out there nine days and no one even realized I was gone. Came home and found my pa and my brother just sittin' in the kitchen and they didn't even look m' way. She didn't deserve to be abandoned like she was."

Michonne felt that tightness in her chest again at his words. _That explains where his parents were that he had to hunt for himself. _

"Maggie said you were out there every day," she commented.

"I went out as much as I could," Daryl admitted with a nod, "Shit, no one else was gonna do it."

Michonne fell silent for a long while as she looked over at the distant spot he was focusing on. She tried to formulate words to help give him something to chew on and think about.

"Do you think you did everything you could to find her?" she asked.

Daryl sighed heavily, but nodded.

"Then you need to stop carrying that around on your shoulders," Michonne stated firmly, but gently. "You did more than anyone else, you did everything possible. If I heard correctly, she was bitten long before you found her. It wasn't your fault, and you did the right thing."

"I know it..." Daryl said darkly, "But see if that changes anything. It sure as hell doesn't. The kid's still dead."

"But not because of you," Michonne insisted, turning to face him now to make her point stronger. He looked at her with something close to weariness if she could read his expressions correctly.

"I guess not," he agreed, "I just...wanted to find her. Alive."

"I'm sure you did," Michonne nodded, her eyes remained locked on his. "I'm sure everyone did. But it seems to me that you were the only one who actually tried their hardest to make that happen. So the blame is not on you. So stop feelin' fuckin' sorry for yourself!"

Daryl's eyes widened slightly and his lips twitched into a half smile.

"Well ain't you just bossy as shit," he said with amusement.

Michonne shrugged.

"I just know what I'm talking about here," she stated simply. "So...I take it from what you said that your family wasn't the greatest?"

Daryl's amusement was gone from his face in a flash and Michonne wished she could take that question back. His eyes got dark and his lips went tight with angry silence.

"You could say that," was all he said before he turned on his heels and walked on, continuing their route around the prison. Michonne trotted to keep up with his long, raging strides.

"Sorry, didn't mean to bring up a touchy subject," she said regretfully.

"Yeah ya did," Daryl said, his voice was flat, "That was the whole point in the first place. Ya wanna know, don't ya? Everybody always wants t' stick their noses in that subject. Ya wanna see 'em? Fine."

Michonne was stopped suddenly when he turned around and dropped his crossbow to the ground. He shrugged his winged jacket from his shoulders and pulled his shirt over his head before she could even register what was happening, then he put it arms out, palms forward, at his side and did a slow turn. Michonne's eyes scanned over his torso and back, taking in the wicked pattern of scars that covered them.

"Take a good look, get it outta yer fuckin' system," he growled, but it was a tired growl. "Don't be shy, c'mon, get over her and touch 'em if ya want, freaking do what ya want but this is the last time. I don't wanna hear another word about it after this. So say whatcha gotta say this time."

Michonne stood in stunned silence at his outburst and her eyes shifted from the hateful lines on his skin to the deep cobalt depths of his eyes. She could almost see the anger rolling off of him in waves but she remained firm and fearless on the outside as she stepped up to him, her hands reaching out slowly, almost afraid to make contact with him. Her fingertips finally came to rest on the particularly noticable scar under his right collarbone and she gently traced it, her eyes remained on his.

But the curiosity that she wished she could tuck away somehow made her look down and follow the trails her fingers were leaving. She walked around him, full circle, and examined every inch of exposed skin and noted that some of the scars continued under the material of his jeans. How far did these scars go? Was there anywhere untouched by the cruelty she was imagining in her mind at the appearances of each scar. She wondered what had caused each one. Finally, she returned to the front of him and he grabbed her hands with his to stop her exploration of his skin.

"Satisfied?" he whispered grimly.

Michonne wasn't exactly sure at this point. When he released her hands, she suddenly missed the warmth they had been in contact with and she bit her bottom lip as many thoughts about the way his body moved as he pulled his shirt back on jumped into her brain. She almost felt bad that he had covered up the creamy expanse of his body and she mentally kicked herself for the thought.

"I'm sorry, Daryl," she said quietly, looking down to the ground at her feet. She felt like an idiot now. "I just...I was curious about you. You're so...different from everyone else."

"I know," Daryl agreed sullenly, "Believe me, I know."

"It's not a bad thing, you know?" Michonne stated, meeting his eyes again.

Daryl looked at her with an odd, unreadable expression for a moment before he stepped forward, his right index finger curled under her chin and held it steady as his eyes flicked bewteen hers. He looked like he was debating something in his mind and Michonne almost swore he leaned forward ever so slightly...but then he gave her a light chuck on the chin with his knuckles and smiled, going back to himself.

"Well, at least we have that in common," he stated, "We're both a little different from the rest."

He picked up his crossbow and headed toward the prison fence and Michonne felt air expell heavily from her lungs, a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Holding her breath? What exactly for?

It's wasn't like he was really going to kiss her, right?

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**Ok, I'm going to bed now...bless me with reviews when I awaken! *falls over into a dead sleep***


	9. Night Watch

**Sorry for the wait, guys! It's been crazy busy lately! Honestly, I don't know what to do with this chapter so bear with me because this is gonna be prompt based! The prompt given was "Dove" so...I think I have a plan!**

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Michonne was on night watch, the most boring watch hours possible, and she was getting tired from pure boredom as she stared down into the darkness outside the prison walls. Nothing to see, nothing to do, no one to talk to...she sighed and sat down, dangling her legs off the tower beneath the bar fence that surrounded the walkway.

She started to hum out of necessity to something or she'd go crazy and she wasn't really even thinking about what the song was in all reality so she was surprised when words joined her humming and her head whipped around to find Daryl leaning against the wall, looking down at her with a grin.

"Def Leppard," he mused, sitting down next to her. She looked at him for a moment longer before she shook her head and realized he was waiting for a reply.

"Yeah," she said with a laugh, "Pour Some Sugar On Me."

"Good song," Daryl seemed surprised, "Didn't figured you'd be a fan of good music."

"Why's that?" Michonne asked, squinting suspiciously at him, "Because you figured I'd be into rap because I'm black, right?"

"Um..." Daryl's lack of response confirmed it and Michonne huffed in annoyance and she about stood up but Darly reached over and grabbed her arm, holding her in place. "Hey now, calm down, I didn't mean it in a bad way! Be honest, you think I like country music."

Michonne remained silent, not wanting him to win this, but it was enough of an answer for Daryl.

"Yeah well, I DO like it, but I'm a classic rock fan," he stated, "So let's just admit that everyone is susceptible to stereotypes and move on."

Michonne smiled in the darkness, glad for his bluntness. It was refreshing, since most people in this group besides Andrea tended to be uncomfortable around her still, but Daryl didn't sugar coat anything and she was beginning to enjoy little things about him that she'd found annoying before. The way he chewed his fingers when he was nervous was her favorite thing of late, it made her smile and she had no clue why.

"Deal," she said accepting his terms, "So, what brings you out here?"

"Couldn't sleep, figured ya could use someone t' talk to," Daryl replied with a shrug.

"Well, I'll admit, I could use the company," Michonne said with a nod, "Night watch is so boring."

"But someone's gotta do it," Daryl reasoned, "I think it should be done in pairs though. I admit, I've dozed off a few times when I had it."

Michonne laughed, a genuine laugh and she saw Daryl's lips twitch into a smile out of the corner of her eye.

"Well, thank you for coming out here with me," she said, turning to smile at him.

"No problem," Daryl stated, waving her off, "So what'dya wanna talk about?"

"Anything," Michonne replied with a sigh, "Just keep me awake."

Daryl looked out over the prison yard and tapped his finger on his bottom lip as he thought, finally he turned towards her, repositioning himself to get comfortable.

"Ok, where are you from originally?" he asked, leaning back against the bars of the fence.

"Florida," Michonne replied, "I had just graduated law school and was travelling back home when the disease hit. I got delayed here in Georgia. What about you, redneck, where are you from?"

"Georgia," Daryl shurgged, "North. Lived in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains."

"Makes sense," Michonne replied with a grin, "That's why you're a good tracker and hunter, right?"

"That and I had t' be," Daryl stated grimly.

Michonne nodded.

"Ok, my turn," she said, "What's your middle name?"

"What is this, Twenty Questions?" Daryl asked with amusement, "And I don't have one. My pa said one name was enough."

Michonne laughed, she couldn't help it, and Daryl cocked a half smile in response.

"So, you went from medic to lawyer, huh?" Daryl took his turn to ask a question, "Why?"

"I guess I just decided I'd seen enough bloodshed," Michonne replied, "Pretty ironic, huh? I've seen more death in the last few months than I have my entire life."

"We all have," Daryl said quietly.

"Ok, here's a simple one, what's your favorite color?" Michonne asked, falling back on the age old question.

"Green. You?"

"Yellow. Favorite animal?"

"Um...probably cats. You?"

"Doves."

"Doves?"

"Yeah, like the bird..."

"I know what a fuckin' dove is, woman."

At that, they both burst into laughter that lasted for a good minute or so and Michonne found herself gasping for air by the end, holding her stomach.

"Whew, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time!" she wheezed, her smiled plastered firmly on her face as she looked over at Daryl, he was grinning and Michonne felt something in her stomach twist or flip or something, but it was unfamiliar.

"Feels good," he stated.

"What does?" Michonne asked, confused. Daryl cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her a look that clearly said 'are you crazy?'.

"Laughing..." Daryl said slowly, unsure.

"Oh! I don't have a clue what I thought you meant!" Michonne felt like she wanted to laugh again, but she was cut short when she realized Daryl was staring at her intently, his eyes looking black in the moonlight. The man had soul piercing eyes, that was for sure..."Daryl? You alright there?"

Daryl shook his head quickly, as if shaking thoughts loose, and looked down to the yard.

"Mhm, just thinkin'," he stated quietly.

Michonne noticed something else just then...she really like Daryl's voice. She never realized until now how soothing and mellow it was, especially when he was speaking quietly.

"About what?" she ventured to ask.

"About...you know when you have something you want to do, but you're not sure, in the long run, if it's the right thing to do?" Daryl replied back with his own question.

"Of course," Michonne answered, waiting for him to continue.

"Well there's something I've been thinking of doing for a while but...I'm not sure if I should or not," Daryl admitted.

"Well...is it possibly gonna hurt anyone?" Michonee tried to work it out of him.

Daryl shook his head.

"No one but me, I guess," he said quietly.

"Well...is it dangerous?" Michonne prodded.

"Not really...well, not usually, but in this case it might be," he replied honestly.

"What exactly are you thinking of doing?" Michonne was very curious now and she moved closer to him, leaning forward interest. He looked up from the yard and met her eyes, she thought she saw something flash in them before he shook his head.

"Nothin'," he said sadly, he started chewing his thumb.

"Nothing, my ass," Michonne pushed, "You better take some lessons about how to tell a lie, Daryl."

Daryl's hand fell slowly from his mouth to his side and he looked at her for a long time and she started getting uncomfortable under his intense gaze. She wiggled slightly and was about to turn back towards the wall when his hand shot out and grabbed her by the forearm and he moved quickly, getting onto his knees and covering the distance between them in a flash, his eyes locked on hers for a moment but then he closed them and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to hers.

To say Michonne was shocked would be the understatement of the year! A million things ran through her mind during that moment and a million reasons why this wasn't right...but they must have been lies because the way his lips were moving on hers felt like the most RIGHT thing she'd ever felt and so she told her brain to fuck off and went against everything she was thinking as she started to return the kiss. It was slow and not forceful, almost timid, at first but when she reciprocated it must have triggered something because she felt his tongue flick out across her bottom lip and she sucked in a sharp breath but allowed him access.

All too soon, however, he pulled back quickly. The look on his face was sheepish and he cleared his throat nervously.

"Sorry..." he mumbled, moving to stand. Michonne grabbed his wrist and pulled him back firmly.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Avoiding the pounding I'm probably gonna get for that..."

"I'm not mad, Daryl...I was just surprised."

Darylk looked down at her and his eyebrows scrunched together.

"Really?" he asked, unsure.

"Really. So that's what you've been thinking of all night, huh?" Michonne asked as Daryl sat back down next to her, a little closer than before.

"Oh...it's been a few days now," Daryl admitted softly. Michonne felt her stomach do that weird thing again and she smiled.

"I've been thinking it too," she admitted.

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**Hope that was a good enough time before this kiss! I couldn't wait any longer! Reviews are awesome!**


	10. So, You Kissed?

**Ok, It's been a laid back kind of day, lots of rain and not a lot to do so I got this written for you all! :)**

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Her words hit him like a bucket of cold water to the face. Did he hear her right?

"You...you have?" he asked in disbelief.

Michonne bit her bottom lip and looked back over the fence toward the treeline. Daryl watched her in silence for a while and then he stood silently and slipped around the corner of the tower and down the ladder. He really needed to clear his head and still couldn't believe what he'd just done.

"Chalk it up to being fuckin' horny at the end of the world," he muttered to himself as he paced alongside stainless steel counters in the kitchen several minutes later. It had been the only place where no one was hanging around. "You're just lucky she didn't stab you and throw you off that tower."

"Daryl?" a voice interrupted his thoughts and he spun around to see Carol standing in the doorway that led to the laundry area. _Of course she'd be in there, she's always doing something like laundry or dishes._

"Hey, Carol," he muttered, trying to hide the fact he'd just been talking to himself.

"Um, are you feeling alright?" Carol was squinting oddly at him.

"I'm fuckin' fine!" Daryl snapped before he even thought about how he must have sounded, "Why does everyone always assume I'm not doin' alright?!"

But Carol didn't flinch back like she'd done the night he yelled at her on the farm, she just stood there and smiled at him slightly. She was aggravating sometimes, because it seemed like she could read him like an open book!

"Daryl, you were talking to yourself in here," Carol stated simply, tossing the towel onto her shoulder. "And...I believe I heard you say something about being thrown off a tower?"

Daryl growled and rolled his eyes, leaning back against the sink and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Carol walked over and sat on one for the counters across from him.

"You feel like talking?" she asked quietly.

"What d'ya think?" Daryl asked, giving her a squinted look of annoyance.

"I can wait," Carol stated, crossing her legs and pulling a nail file out of her pocket. She started scrapping across her left thumbnail and Daryl winced at the sound but remained silent. By the time she'd reached the pointer finger of her right hand he couldn't take the sound anymore.

"Can ya stop sandpapering' yerself?" he growled rudely. Carol glanced up at him and smiled.

"I'll stop when you're ready to talk," she said, starting to file again.

"I don't know what you expect me t' say," Daryl muttered darkly, tapping his fingers on the metal of the sink.

"Well...why don't you start with being thrown off a tower?" Carol suggested, laying down the nail file.

"I was just kidding," Daryl began slowly, not really knowing _why_ this woman managed to get all this information out of him all the time. It was hard to lie to Carol...it's like she could read his mind. "I just...did something stupid."

Carol's head cocked sympathetically and he felt himself wiggle without even thinking about it, damn his nervous habits. Speaking of, he raised his thumb and started chewing on it.

"What'd you do, Daryl?" Carol asked, he knew there was no judgment with Carol, she'd looked past all his crap before.

"Well...you see..." _How the hell am I going to explain this?_

"Does it have to do with Michonne?" Carol asked. Daryl met her eyes quickly and surprised, his muscles coiled for a second in that old familiar feeling like he was ready to bolt and leave this discussion in the dirt, but he couldn't do it. Never could when Carol wanted him to talk.

"How did...?" he asked in amazement.

"You two have been skirting around each other for a week," Carol explained, "I've seen you both watching each other and..."

"She watches me?!"

"Of course," Carol replied with a shrug.

"How do you know all this stuff?" Daryl asked in confusion, seriously this woman was magic.

"I was watching her," Carol said, "Keeping an eye on her, you know? I didn't trust her because I knew YOU didn't trust her. She watches you a lot...and NOT in a way that I'm worried about."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Daryl growled.

Carol smiled and laughed a little.

"Oh, Daryl..." Carol shook her head and laughed, "Don't get off track here, what did you do?"

Daryl sighed, he guessed it was pointless to try and avoid it...Carol would work it out sooner or later somehow.

"I kinda...I sorta...kissed her," he muttered quietly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Carol asked teasingly. "Couldn't hear you."

"I fuckin' kissed her, alright?!" Daryl snapped loudly, making Carol's smile widen.

"You did!?" she said, leaning forward with wide eyes. "Daryl, you dog, you!"

Daryl blushed brightly and ducked his head so she wouldn't see, not that she could anyway because the only light was from the moon through the barred windows.

"Did she hit you?" Carol asked.

"No," Daryl replied quickly, "She...she kissed me back."

Carol clapped her hand together in front of her chest.

"Oh man, this is exciting!" she squealed, "Daryl, don't worry, I'll keep this quiet."

"Carol, it was a one time thing," Dary muttered, pushing away from the sink and stalking past Carol, making for the door.

"Because you were just horny during the end of the world?" Carol asked as he passed. Daryl stopped in his tracks and turned to stare at her, jaw slack and eyes wide. Carol giggled loudly and ran past him and out of the kitchen, leaving him standing there in disbelief.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Andrea climbed the ladder to the guard tower and slid down next to Michonne who was leaning against the wall, staring out at the treeline.

"So, I saw Dixon climb down from here when I came out," she commented, "Did he bother you? Because if he did I can go kick him in the junk for you."

Michonne laughed at that, making Andrea glad the silence was broken.

"No, Andrea, that's not necessary," the dark warrior replied, "He was just keeping me company."

"Keeping you company?" Andrea snorted in disbelief, "He's actually talking to you now?"

"Something like that..." Michonne stated mysteriously.

Andrea squinted suspiciously and waited for further information, but when Michonne offered no more she finally lost her patience.

"Michonne, come on, what was he really up here for?" she whined.

"Andrea..."

"You're acting weird, 'Chonne!" Andrea reasoned, "I'm just trying to liven up the night with some juicy gossip!"

"Would Daryl Dixon kissing me qualify as juicy gossip?" Michonne asked, placing her chin on her palm as she scanned the yard below.

"Yeah, that would be the best I've heard since Maggie and Glenn had sex at the pharmacy!" Andrea laughed, "But, come on, Michonne, let's make it a little more believable than that."

"I'm not kidding, Andrea," Michonne replied mirthlessly, "He did."

Andrea's eyes nearly bugged out of her head, she had a random thought of Jim Carey in The Mask going "AAAWOOOOGA!".

"No he did NOT!" Andrea squealed, "What the hell!?"

Michonne rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Michonne...come on, we both know he's terrified of you!" Andrea said seriously.

"Apparently not," Michonne reasoned, "Although he was very, very nervous and thought I was going to hit him."

Andrea remained quiet for a while, mulling this whole situation over in her mind. Finally she sighed.

"Well...this IS good," she said, rubbing her hands together, "This is some major ammunition..."

"Andrea, don't you dare," Michonne scolded firmly, "Don't even think about spreading this around!"

"Ok, ok!" Andrea raised her palms in defense, "I won't tell anyone...but in exchange for my silence, I want info. How was it?"

Michonne sighed, knowing she wasn't getting out of this with any sort of quiet dignity.

"It was...different," she admitted slowly, "I've, um, never kissed a white guy before..."

"I'm kind of fond of it," Andrea said with a smile, "But I'm up for anything! Is he good?"

"Yes," Michonne sighed in defeat, "Yes, he's very good."

"Man...wish I would've got there first!" Andrea huffed, crossing her arms.

"I'm not staking any claims, Andrea," Michonne laughed, "You're welcome to him, if you like."

Andrea laughed.

"Something tells me he's not going to kiss just ANYONE, 'Chonne," she said sadly, "Dixon doesn't open up like that often. We've had one single discussion over twenty words in length and he's never even glanced in my direction the way he looks at you."

Michonne's head whipped around, her eyes wide in the darkness.

"What do you mean?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh yeah, he watches you constantly," Andrea claimed, "First I thought he just didn't trust you...but I'm beginning to see his interest in you in a whole new light!"

Michonne sighed and stood up.

"You taking over watch?" she asked grimly, "I need some sleep."

"Sure, 'Chonne," Andrea smiled genuinely, "I'll take over."

Michonne nodded her thanks and headed for the ladder.

"And, Michonne," Andrea called, making her stop with one leg over the side of the edge. "Give him a chance, huh?"

Michonne sighed, but nodded, deep inside she was already planning on giving him many, many chances.

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

**Sorry I didn't get this up last night, the internet was knocked out by a storm all day so here it is a day late!**


	11. Early Morning WakeUp Call

**Song of the Day: Revelry- Kings of Leon**

**Whew, sorry it's been so long since I updated but man it's been busy around here. About to get busier too, now that I start a job soon.**

**TWDTWDTWDTWD**

Michonne threw her arm over her eyes to block out the light and groaned. _Where the hell is this light fucking coming from?!_

Something weird was going on and her fuzzy, sleep riddle brain was trying hard to register what that things was, and then it hit her...her cell didn't have any windows, where was that light coming from. She lifted her arm and opened her eyes, immediately blinded when she did.

"Ow!" she hissed angrily, it registered in her mind that the light was coming from a flashlight, one which was pointed directly in her face. "Turn that off or point it somewhere else!"

The light faded and she opened her eyes again, blinking rapidly and angrily. The shadow encased outline of someone at the foot of her bed made her sit up and scoot back on the bed, reaching automatically for her katana.

"What are you gonna do with that?" the voice of Daryl Dixon flooded her ears and she immediately felt her hackles go down, relief flooded over her.

"What would YOU do if someone snuck into your room and woke you up like this?!" Michonne replied sharply, resheathing her sword.

"Fair enough," Daryl said quietly, and Michonne wondered vaguely what time it was that he was sneaking around so quietly. "Wanna go hunting?"

Michonne gaped at him, her mouth dropped open.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked in annoyance, "I had the night watch, I want to SLEEP, not HUNT! Get your ass out of my room!"

She threw her pillow at him and he dodged it with a chuckle, but made no move to leave.

"Can you hand me that back?" Michonne asked sheepishly.

"Nope, come and get it yourself," Daryl replied with a smirk, she could see him pretty well now that her eyes had adjusted. "You shouldn't of thrown it if ya wanted to keep it."

"Please, Daryl?" Michonne whined, honestly too tired to think about her badass reputation she would whine if she damn well wanted.

Daryl smiled and picked up the pillow, tossing it back to her.

"Hey, I was just asking," he said, sounding slightly disappointed, "Can't blame a guy for trying, right?"

"Just go hunting and let me sleep!" Michonne groaned and covered her head with the pillow, flopping onto her stomach. She heard him laugh, but as hard as she listened for footsteps announcing he'd left she heard nothing. She poked her head out from under the pillow and he was gone..._Good Lord, the man walks like a shadow._

"Daryl?!" she whispered loudly. She didn't hear him, but she saw his head pop around the corner of her doorway. She sighed angrily because she was now suddenly very wide awake. "Give me five minutes?"

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Michonne yawned widely as she crouched near the base of a tree next to Daryl. He shot her an annoyed glare as the coyote they were stalking looked up in surprise at the sound of the yawn and then took off with a yip.

"Sorry," Michonne apologized, looking sheepish.

"Good thing I didn't really feel like eating coyote anyway," Daryl muttered as he stood up straight, leaning back to pop his spine. Michonne groaned slightly as she stood and felt the kinks in her back from crouching so long.

"Oh, ow," she moaned as she twisted her lower back, trying to get the kink there out. It didn't budge.

"Need some help there?" Daryl asked. She looked at him for moment before nodding.

Daryl set down his bow and stepped behind her and Michonne tensed up when he lined himself up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, his pelvis pressed firmly into her from behind.

"Relax," he said softly. Before Michonne could argue with him, his arm tightened and she felt herself being leaned backwards and her feet came off the ground as he braced her with his pelvis and leaned back, her shoulders pressed into his chest as her lower back bent with him. She heard a loud snap and instant relief spread up her spine at that kink in her spine fell into place. Then Daryl stood back straight and backed away slightly, but...not very far and his arms remained around her midsection.

"Thank you," Michonne sighed, "That. Felt. Amazing."

"Mm, yeah, it's a fan favorite," Daryl chuckled, "Carol makes me do it all the time after she hand scrubs the laundry."

"I bet!" Michonne laughed, "Be expecting requests from me too!"

"Whatever you want."

If Michonne wasn't mistaken, there was a heavy suggestion in that statement and even more so in the tone of his voice. Was it just her or had his voice taken on a husky kind of sound?

"Whatever I want?" she decided to test this theory.

"Mmhm," Daryl mumbled in her ear from behind.

"What if I want you to kiss me right now?" she asked boldly.

"Think I can manage that," Daryl whispered into her neck as he turned her around gently. Michonne felt her heart jump into her throat as she met his eyes, intense, beautiful blue eyes. But then those eyes closed and she felt his lips connect with hers gently, hesitantly at first, staying closed and simply brushing over to test the waters. Then, almost immediately, Michonne felt all hesitation disappear and Daryl's mouth was hard on hers, his tongue slid across her bottom lip, begging silently for entrance and she allowed it. She let out a little moan as the slick, warmth of his tongue slid into her mouth and twined with hers and traced the contours of her palate.

Michonne sighed when he pulled back and rested his forehead on hers, his blue eyes staring into hers.

"What?" she asked breathlessly, a grin spreading across her face.

"I really just asked ya to come with me so I could talk to ya about last night," Daryl admitted quietly, "So...I'm guessing I didn't overstep my bounds?"

"Well..." Michonne thought about it for a moment, "It was a surprise, for sure, but...you definitely are within your bounds. FAR within."

"What does that mean?" Daryl's eye widened slightly and he looked at her in surprise.

"You can use your hands too, you know," Michonne suggested quietly, she locked eyes with him as her arms slid around the back of his neck and she raised onto her tiptoes to start a kiss of her own. She felt Daryl smile into her mouth before he reciprocated.

Use his hands he did. He began by cupping her face as their lips and tongues settled into a rhythm and then he traced down her neck with his fingertips and around her shoulders with his palms, putting just enough pressure on her collarbone to make her squirm slightly. At one point he slid his fingers under the hem of her shirt and traced the warm skin there. He ended his downward path at her hips and he firmly pulled her against him, rubbing against her without thinking about it.

"Mmph," Michonne pulled her mouth back and laughed. "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just getting excited?"

Daryl's cheeky grin was enough of an answer and Michonne laughed, but she pushed his hands off her hips and stepped back.

"Let's, uh, let's take it slow," she said nervously, hoping he wasn't going to be mad at her, "I mean...I like you, Daryl, I do. But, I don't want to rush into something we might regret later."

Daryl chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before he nodded and ran his hand through his hair.

"You're right," he said with a shrug, "You're right. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Michonne said quickly, "Don't think I don't _want_ to, it's just...wrong time and wrong place."

Daryl's tongue traced the corner of his mouth as he nodded and Michonne watched it with interest. He had a lot of weird little nervous/bored habits he did with his hands and his mouth and they all made her smile. The man might be an expert hunter, silent and deadly...but he was pretty damn fidgety.

"Think we should bring back some game?" she asked, to break the silence. "Don't want to raise suspicion if we come back empty handed."

"Probably a good idea," Daryl agreed, "Just...um...give me a sec."

Michonne giggled and watched in amusement as he closed his eyes and started taking deep, slow breaths to try and set his body back to normal. Soon, he blinked and grabbed up his crossbow with a wink.

"Let's go kill some critters," he said before turning and slipping into the underbrush, leaving Michonne to follow.

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

**I know this is really short, but it's kind of a...transition chapter. Drop me a review and let me know what you all think so far and let me know if there's anything specific you want to see.**


	12. Dreamin'

**Song of the Day: Georgia Rain- Trisha Yearwood**

**Sorry it's been so long since I updated again! I just honestly have had a lot of other stuff going on with EMS and home life but...here's more for you :)**

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Daryl paced back and forth along the railings of the guard tower, eyes scanning the edge of the woods and the bank of the river. But he wasn't truly thinking about his duty as guard at the moment, his mind was flooded with images of that morning's breakfast as a group. He'd woken up in a sour mood, which probably had something to do with the previous day's encounter with Michonne in the woods and the fact that he'd let himself get so close to her AND the fact that he'd finally accepted in his mind that she was beautiful and that he would do her in a heartbeat if the opportunity presented its self. He was still trying to wrap his backwoods-raised, redneck, past racist ideals filled mind around this fact and all the thinkin' and reasonin' was wearing on his nerves.

He'd been the second one into the kitchen that day, only Carol was up earlier than him so she could actually MAKE breakfast before everyone woke up.

_"Good morning, early bird," she had teased him, smiling that Carol smile at him as he awkwardly made his way to stand by her. "Breakfast isn't ready yet, you could have slept longer, you know?"_

_"I was already awake anyhow," Daryl muttered, but yawned despite his words. "Can I...uh, help somehow?"_

_Carol laughed and grabbed his elbows, turning him around and marching him to the table where she gave him a little shove. He shrugged and sat down in the chair she'd aimed him for. _

_"I've got it covered," she said happily, "Lord knows if there's one thing I can do for this group, it's cook!"_

_"Don't be so hard on yerself," Daryl said, yawning again, "You do plenty. Hell of a lot more than Lori ever does."_

_Carol looked over her shoulder at him in surprise but he saw the amusement in her eyes and despite their best efforts, they both started to laugh. _

_"Oh, Daryl, you're really pretty funny when you want to be," Carol wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes as she stirred the scrambled eggs in the pan__.__ "I bet Michonne thinks so too."_

_Daryl jerked his head up the mention of her and Carol's eyes got an odd twinkle in them. A proud one, if Daryl read it right._

_"You know she was smiling an awful lot after you guys got back from hunting," Carol's voice was full of suggestion and Daryl found himself blushing despite his best efforts, and it was not missed by her knowing eyes. "What exactly happened out there?"_

_"Nothin'," Daryl muttered. Carol poured him a cup of instant coffee and poured herself one as well then came to sit with him at the table while the eggs simmered in one pan and the frozen sausage patties browned in another. She took a sip and smiled across the table at him._

_"Come on, Daryl," she rolled her eyes, "I wasn't born yesterday. SOMETHING happened in those woods."_

_Daryl ran a hand through his hair and chewed his bottom lip, avoiding Carol's eyes at all costs._

_"I...I mighta...kissed her..." he finally owned up._

_"You mighta?" Carol prodded. "Or you most definitely DID?"_

_"I fuckin' kissed her, alright?" Daryl growled, his shoulders slumped in defeat._

_Carol looked far too happy for his taste she stood and checked the breakfast but she came right back, clutching her coffee cup like a stereotypical gossip image._

_"So then what?" she asked, excitement in her voice and eyes._

_"Nothin' happened," Daryl said, and he actually allowed himself to sound disappointed because he knew there was no fooling this woman anyway._

_"But you WANTED it to happen?" Carol wiggled her eyebrows as she took another sip of coffee._

_Daryl shot her a glare he kept in his arsenal of angry looks that he reserved specially for the worst offenses...but she didn't even look concerned. He slowly felt the indignant rise of his imaginary hackles start to lower and he finally just sighed and looked over at the stove._

_"Shouldn't you be cookin' and mindin' yer own business?" he grumbled. Carol did stand up to check the eggs and flip the sausage but she was back in a flash, leaning forward in her 'I'm listening' way._

_"What exactly are you expecting me to say?" he asked in exasperation, taking a gulp of coffee._

_"The truth, that's all," Carol said simply. _

_Daryl knew there was no winning. Carol had this uncanny ability to read him like an open book and he could almost feel her mind burning into his as she stared at him, waiting for him to speak._

_"Fine, you want the truth?" he muttered, glancing at the kitchen doors to make sure the coast was clear, "I DID want somethin' to happen out there...but she...we decided it was a bad time."_

_Carol seemed a little shocked by that news._

_"So...whoa, wait, you two almost...?" she seemed a little shaken, but then she collected herself and grinned madly, "This is progressing much faster than I thought it was!"_

_"What the fuck are you on about?" Daryl asked, but the kitchen door flung open and a half-awake Glenn came stumbling in, followed by a yawning Maggie and T-Dog rubbing his eyes. Daryl shot Carol a look that stated very clearly that this conversation was not over but he kept quiet and took another drink of coffee while the others began pouring in._

_Michonne walked in moments after everyone else and her eyes immediately found his, and she smiled boldly as she took a seat straight across from him with her coffee, she peered at him over the rim of the cup as she drank. He was a little bit unnerved by the unflinching gaze but he just wiggled in his seat a little to relief some of the nervous tension that had worked up in him. All through breakfast she shot him little smiles and coy looks and, one time, a wink. _

And that wink was what he couldn't get out of his head now as he leaned against the railing, his eyes locked on a crack in the cement of the guard tower. He watched as a bug crawled up along the crack and curled his top lip angrily as he tried to figure out the cause of Michonne's behavior and Carol's statement. Finally, the bug disappeared inside the crack and he scuffed his boot on the walkway in frustration and growled low in his throat. He pulled the collar of his vest-made-jacket up around his neck as a gust of autumn wind made its way through the prison, it chilled him to the bone for some reason and he made his way inside the tower to get out of it. He plopped into the swirly, yet sturdy, reclining office chair and leaned back, propping his boots up on the desk.

"How's it goin' over there, Dixon?" his walkie talkie crackled to life and Andrea's voice filled his ears. He sighed and lifted it to his mouth as he pushed the button.

"Goin' just fine," he drawled lazily, "A little nippy out there though."

"I hear that," Andrea agreed, "Hey, I really gotta pee, so I'm gonna go in for a bit. You ok to handle this side on your own?"

"Blondie, who do ya think yer talkin' to?" Daryl almost snapped, but he managed to reign it in and keep it teasing.

"The great and powerful Daryl Dixon, of course!" Andrea schmoozed, "Ok, I'll be back in a bit."

"Hope everything comes out alright," Daryl stated.

"Fuck you."

"You're not my type, but thanks for the offer."

The crackling stopped and Daryl grinned, knowing he'd won that particular round of sarcasm. He set the walkie talkie back on the desk and scanned the tree line and riverbank once again before letting his eyes drop closed as he listened to the sound of the wind picking up, it started to make a whistling noise through the small cracks in the window seals. But inside, the wind couldn't get at him and he mentally flipped it off with a smile.

"What are you smiling about?" Daryl nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice and he spun the chair around quickly. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Michonne leaning on the doorframe of the room, a wide smile on her face.

"You wanna close that door, Rosa Parks?" he said in annoyance, the cold wind was slowly creeping in through the open door. Michonne squinted at him funny, but stepped in and shut it behind her.

"What's with the nickname there, Jethro Bodine?" she asked.

Daryl wanted to smack himself but he settled for a hang of his head.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I'm just feeling kinda grouchy. Didn't mean to insult ya or nothin'."

"It's not an insult," Michonne said with a shrug, "She was a very awesome woman."

Daryl was relieved at her statement and he smiled.

"Yeah, she was that," he agreed. He'd always liked the story of Rosa Parks...not that he EVER let it be known among any of his relations. "Strong woman."

Michonne just stood there staring down at him, her arms crossed just under her chest, looking thoughtful.

"You like strong women, huh?" she asked unexpectedly.

Daryl was a little taken aback by the question but he thought about it seriously for a moment.

"Yeah, I guess I really do," he finally said, "Ya know, one who can take care of herself. That way I know if I'm gone, she'll be fine. Plus, they ain't afraid to get their hands dirty."

With that being said, Daryl turned and scanned the tree line once again, eyes peeled for movement of any kind. But it was calm as usual, nothing came out of the trees, nothing came over the riverbank. He sighed and leaned his chin on his palm as he rested his elbow on the desk.

"So, what brings you up here?" he asked Michonne, for the sake of starting a conversation, breakfast had slipped his mind until that moment and now it was back again and his curiosity urged him to speak.

The answer came not so much in words as it did in actions. Daryl felt himself being swiftly spun around as Michonne pushed one arm of the chair and he came to a stop facing her. He didn't even have time to say a word before her mouth was on his, cutting off anything he might have been inclined to say. Daryl's eyes widened for a moment before he smiled and let himself go with the flow, eagerly reciprocating the hungry kiss.

"Oh...that's why," he breathed out when they parted, grinning like a fox.

"So, I've been thinking about yesterday morning," Michonned said slowly, quietly, "And...I wanted to let you know that...I'm ready when you are."

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he even dug his right pinky into his ear and asked her to repeat herself.

"I said," Michonne leaned forward, her nose only inches from his, "I'm ready. Whenever you're ready."

"How about now?" Daryl couldn't help the bubble of excitement that rose up in him, she was making the first move, which he was dreading having to do, "Now's good?"

Michonne actually laughed out loud at the hopeful look on his face and she placed her hands on either side of his face as she reclaimed his mouth. Daryl wondered if this was her way of saying yes...

"Not here," he heard her say quietly when they parted, "At least...not everything."

"What's that mean?" Daryl asked, cocking his head like a dog.

Michonne slid down him, kneeling off to his side, and smiled up at him. Then, to his surprised and utterly shocked delight, she moved around till she was in front of him and gently gripped his knees, pushing them apart as she moved forward, putting her body between them.

_Oh good Lord, I'm dreaming this...this is just like that one dream...c'mon Daryl, enjoy it while it lasts because this will NEVER happen in real life._

"What are you thinking about?" Michonne asked gently, seeing the outward expressions of the inward discussion on his face.

"Just...I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming again," Daryl replied honestly.

"Again?" It was Michonne's turn to look confused.

"Yeah," Daryl sighed, "This seems to be one of those recurring dreams. It never finishes though."

Michonne laughed again, her grip on his knees slid upwards until her hands came to the button and zipper of his worn and tattered cargo pants and she went to work undoing both without any hesitation. Daryl let his head drop back and his eyes flutter closed as he relaxed beneath the movements of her fingers as they worked the material open. He took a short, sharp breath when her hand slid under the olive green layer and slid along its intended target, he let out a sigh as he felt himself hardening by the second.

"Hey," Michonne's whisper reached his ears and he opened his eyes slowly, lifting his head to look down at her through half lidded eyes full of lust.

"Yeah?" he whispered back.

"You're not dreaming," she stated as she met his gaze.

Daryl just chuckled and let his head roll back again. But he felt her hand suddenly surround him and she squeezed...HARD.

"Ow! Fuck!" Daryl sat bolt upright with a jolt, his hands flew to her wrists and gripped them firmly, his blue eyes blazing and fierce. 'What the fuck was that?!"

"Now you know you're not dreaming..." Michonne replied simply, her grin was cheeky and satisfied.

"You didn't have t'...oh holy shit..."

Before he could figure out what to do with this new info, he felt the relief of being released from the tight confines of the material of his pants and Michonne's hands were skillfully sliding and twisting in ways he'd never known existed before now and all thoughts besides "holy fuck, that's awesome" and "this has been such a long time coming" flew out of his mind as he gave himself over to her expert touch.

The moment was so surreal that he almost wanted to laugh...but it felt too good to even consider laughing. He was vaguely aware that he was breathing heavily now, but he didn't even give a shit if he sucked in as much air as a jet engine or as little as an ant right now as those hands suddenly received some spit from their owner, making everything that much better.

"You're pretty quiet," Michonne commented randomly. Daryl cracked one eye open and glanced down at her, wondering what she was talking about. "You haven't made a single noise unrelated to breathing."

"Yeah, well," Daryl replied breathlessly. "In case ya ain't noticed, I'm kinda a little on the quieter side."

"I think I can change that," Michonne teased, her voice was heavy with suggestion and she gave him another one of those winks that drove him crazy before she released all hold on his at all and backed off, standing quickly. Daryl's jaw dropped at the suddenly lack of contact and he gave her a pitiful, begging look.

"Aw, come on!" he complained loudly, "That ain't even right!"

"When your shift ends, I'll be in the storage room," Michonne called over her shoulder as she opened the door, casting a smile over her shoulder. "Be there."

Daryl watched her go, wide eyed and hard as stone.

_Bitch..._

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

**So...I think we all know what the next chapter holds :) I know some of you have been waiting for a long time! Reviews are awesome and they make me want to write faster and better so the more you hit that review button, the better this next chapter shall be :D**


	13. Keep It To Yourself

**Song of the Day: Electric Shock- F(x)**

**Sorry this has been such a long time coming, life's been crazy lately. CRAZY! **

**But I have a lot of free time today so, here's what my free time came up with :)**

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

Walking across that yard after guard duty, past the whole group as he passed by the cell block where they were all gathered in to talk and then down the hallway towards the storage room was the hardest and most frightening thing that Daryl Dixon had ever done. He chewed his thumb and first two fingers nervously as he walked, his eyes flitting around like a scared rabbit at every movement, not wanting anyone to stop him and ask him questions or want to chat with him.

When he reached the storage room door he stopped in his tracks and just...stared at the grey metal as his mind raced with thoughts of screwing this up, doing something wrong. Or what if she changed her mind? What if she decided he wasn't good enough for her? What if she decided she didn't want to waste her time with redneck white trash like him?

_Turn around and just walk back to your cell, _his mind screamed at him, _She just had a burst of horniness and you were the closest one...didn't mean nothin', she don't want you. Turn around and walk away..._

Daryl was placing his weight on his heels, just about to spin around on them and take off down the hallway when the metal door in front of him suddenly swung inwards and Michonne started to step out. She must not have expected him to be standing there because she nearly bumped into him and let out a scared little yip before covering her mouth to stop it.

"Oh, Daryl, you scared the shit out of me!" she hissed in a whisper, "Don't just stand there, come on in!"

Daryl's mind was screaming at him to turn, to run, to get himself as far from this woman as possible, but his body was on autopilot and he found himself inside the storage room without really remembering entering at all. He glanced around the room and saw a pile of sleeping bags and blankets off to one side and his eyes lingered there.

"Daryl?" Michonne's soft voice made him jump back to reality and he turned his head and found her right next to him, only inches between them, her eyes questioning. "Are you alright with this?"

Daryl smiled sheepishly.

"I was about to ask you the same question," he stated honestly.

"I mean...you're not having any second thoughts?" Michonne clarified, "I mean...my skin color or nothing's gonna bother you?"

Daryl cringed inwardly at her question. He looked at the dark skinned, exotic woman beside him and wondered how any idiot would ever think she was anything less than beautiful...how HE had ever thought that! Color...after all this world was coming to, what the hell was the point in worrying about color? Even Merle should have seen it, all that mattered was that they were all living, breathing PEOPLE.

"Michonne..." Daryl suddenly felt like an asshole, "I...love your color. You've got the most beautiful skin I've ever seen. I just...I'm sorry if I ain't nothin' like you're use to."

Michonne's eyes softened, he noticed, and she carefully reached out her hand to place on his cheek, slowly so she didn't spook him.

"I don't want what I was use to," she whispered softly, "It's a whole new world out there...and I have a whole new view on what makes a man worth giving a try. And I'm willing to try you out, Dixon. In every way you can think of."

"Ah, shit, is this pass-fail?" Daryl muttered, "Because I always sucked at those tests."

Michonne laughed, making Daryl grin slightly as she tugged his hand and led him slowly to the pile of sleeping bags and blankets on the floor. She surprised him by being the first to make a move, pulling her shirt over her head and shaking her dreads loose from her usual headband. Daryl eyed the dark expanse of her back and the way the muscles moved in her shoulders as she reached back to unclip her bra, the white, cotton garment a raging contrast against her body...as raging a contrast as his skin when he placed his hand over hers to stop her from achieving her goal. He took over and easily unclipped the back, then ran his rough hands over the smooth shoulders in front of him, taking the straps there with them so the whole thing fell away and Michonne let it slid off her arms and chest o the floor in front of her.

Daryl wasted no time in sliding his arms around her from behind, his hands closing gently on the warm, soft mounds that had just been revealed in their boldness. Michonne sucked in a breath of surprise and then let it out with a slight moan when Daryl's thumbs slid over the peaks, causing them to harden even more. Michonne would have gladly stayed that way all day long, but the next moment she found herself being turned around to face him. He gazed at her with dilated, lust filled eyes that were still slightly unsure as they scanned her upper half.

"God damn..." he whispered huskily as he took in all the glorious inches that he could see clearly now.

"This is hardly fair, I'd say," Michonne said firmly, her hands coming up to slide under the hem of his shirt and up his stomach to his chest. She felt the scars every inch of the way and she saw a few of them as her arms caused the bottom of his shirt to rise and reveal the taut, pale skin of his stomach. She felt him tense a little but he raised his arms and allowed her to slip the worn t-shirt over his head, followed by the tan wife-beater underneath, revealing the scarred expanse of his chest to her curious eyes.

She'd seen him without a shirt before, that day in the woods, but she was now looking at him through completely different eyes. She looked past the scars, the raised and angry long-healed trails, and looked at the unharmed skin and the muscles rippling impressively underneath. She felt the heat radiating off of him and heard the soft thumping of his heart as she pressed ear to him and leaned in as his arms slid around her. Her fingers threaded slowly through the spatter of hair on his chest and slid teasingly down the darkening trail that disappeared into his ripped jeans. She then brought that hand back up to run down the entire length of his arm, from shoulder to the very tips of his calloused fingers, admiring the way their colors clashed. She smiled and slid her arms around him to draw patterns on the skin of his back as they stood in that transitioning embrace.

They had taken the first step, seen the differences, accepted the flaws, tested the waters and now they had come to the conclusion that this was what they both wanted, that this could possibly work and that they could prove everyone wrong about them.

Moments later found them kissing slowly, gently as they worked up to a more passionate speed. Michonne was surprised by the force behind the next kiss as Daryl's hand slid to her lower back and pulled her flush against him, she felt the tell-tale hardness of his against her hip and she smiled when she felt his tongue slide questioningly over her bottom lip. She responded gladly, parting her lips to let his have the access he was seeking and she fought the urge to squeal happily as he slipped his tongue confidently behind her teeth and started urging hers to play along, which...it totally did. Michonne had been kissed many times in her life, but she'd never felt the intensity that Daryl was exhibiting now, like he was making up for lost time.

He finally took her bottom lip between his lips and teeth and sucked on it gently as he withdrew to lean back and look at her with dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

"I ain't never felt nothin' like that mouth o' yours," he said breathlessly, "A man could get use to this."

"A woman could too," Michonne smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before stepping back out of his arms. She locked eyes with him as her hands went to the button of his jeans and was glad to see the happy look of surprise he acquired as she popped it open and slid her finger down, parting the zipper as she went. What she wasn't expecting was the fact that Daryl had decided long ago that boxers were merely a hassle in the apocalypse and he all but tumbled into her hand, making her eyes widen and making him laugh at her expression.

"Uh...sorry 'bout that," he chuckled.

"Got something against underwear?" Michonne giggled, but not letting him go none the less. In fact, she gave him a playful squeeze and watched his reaction with a smile. His eyes dropped shut and he shuddered visibly, his jaw dropping slightly as he exhaled and smiled.

"Just easier this way," Daryl claimed with no shame at all, "Even taking a piss can be dangerous these days, I don't wanna get caught with my pants down, so to speak. Shake and tuck, simple as that."

Michonne let out a bark of laughter and leaned her face into his chest to stifle her giggles, she felt his chest rumble with his deeper laugh and she thought it was a lovely sound. Then she leaned back and released her hold on him so she could slide his jeans down completely. He toed off his boots and kicked the pile of clothing to the side and crossed his arms over his chest as he popped his hip almost hilariously.

"Your turn, I'd say," he declared before stepping forward and sliding his hands into the front of her jeans, making her jump slightly in surprise when his fingertips brushed against her beneath the material. He grinned at the little squeak she made and leaned in to press his lips to her pulse point, his teeth scraping gently over the skin there as his fingers teased her inside her pants at the same time.

"Oh god, alright, I'll take them off!" she gasped as he pushed his hand into her particularly hard. She reached down and popped the button and zipper and grabbed his hands to get him to move them so she could get the jeans down her legs. He withdrew and let her slip out of them before he moved back in and gripped her butt cheeks firmly and pulled her into him again.

"Mmm, is it just me or are ya warmer than most people?" he murmured into her shoulder as he left a trail of kisses on her collarbone.

"Is it just me or does your drawl get thicker when you're turned on?" Michonne shot back with a smile.

"Probably," Daryl said, his breath hot on her skin as he spoke. She shivered and slid her hands up his back and neck to tangle into the soft dark brown hair that was getting just long enough to hand over his ears. She pushed her hips forward purposely in a silent request and was proud of herself when she felt the responding twitch against her leg, it had been quite a while since she'd had this strong of an effect on a man. Her last few boyfriends hadn't really thought she was anything too special and so sex was always mediocre and somewhat just out of the need to get off, nothing really personal or romantic or even desirable about it. This was different, there was a relaxed and easy feel to this and she could sense the difference in the way Daryl was responding to her, like he wanted her not just as a way to get off, but as a person, as a partner.

"Daryl, what the hell are you waiting for?" she suddenly whispered.

"Don't fuckin' know," Daryl said, looking surprised at her words. But she guessed all he needed was a nudge because the next thing she knew she was on her back in the pile of sleeping bags, Daryl's warm weight pressing into her entire front as he braced himself up slightly to keep from completely squishing her as he started trailing hot, wet kisses down her throat, shoulders, chest and to her stomach where he dipped his tongue into her navel before returning to stare down at her face with a look she imagined a stoner would have after a few hits off a joint.

Michonne was tired of the playing around, tired of the teasing touches, and she let him know by bucking her hips up to his and grinding into him demandingly.

"Daryl, please stop with the teasing," she whined, threading her fingers into his hair again and giving it a firm tug which resulted in an almost animalistic growl to issue from his throat, "I'm gonna go crazy if you don't do this now!"

"Keep your pants...just hold on a sec," Daryl laughed slightly at his ironic statement, but Michonne's stomach flipped when she felt him reach between them to position himself and she nearly squealed with anticipation when she felt the tip of him push against her. "Ya sure ya wannna do this? 'Cause if ya ain't..."

"Oh shut up!" Miconne took matters in her own hands and pushed her pelvis into his, taking his length into her without any warning at all, which earned her a sharp inhale and a long, shuddering, almost whiney exhale in return. Daryl's forehead dropped to her shoulder and he panted there for a moment as his brain defogged.

"Fuckin' shit," he whispered in awe when she began to move her hips against him from underneath. He raised his upper body, putting his weight on his palms as he pushed deeper into her tight, wet warmth and began the long forgotten motions he had once been so proficient at.

Michonne bit back a moan as he pushed in deep, then withdrew painfully slow before pushing back in forcefully and picking up a little speed. Yeah, this was definitely different than the last few times she'd had sex. His eyes studied her face as she responded to his movement with sounds and expressions and movements of her own, and he adjusted his technique accordingly. Michonne had never seen such eagerness to please in any man she'd ever slept with and it drove her to a whole new level of passion.

One thrust caused her to tense up in a jolt of unbelievable pleasure and she dug her nails deep into the skin of his back where she remembered seeing a tattoo of two winged demons climbing up his ribs to his shoulder and this action made him groan almost painfully into her mouth as he captured her in a panting, desperate kiss. Michonne whimpered and wiggled delightfully as he took advantage of that position and pounded that spot without mercy, causing Michonne's purposely reserved whimpers to turn into uncontrollably loud moans and gasps and the occasional "fuck" or "holy shit".

Suddenly, stars burst in her vision when Daryl tilted his left hip upwards so his pelvis twisted almost sideways and it caused a jolt like she'd never felt before and she tumbled over the edge with a shaky moaning cry as the strength of her orgasm rocked her entire frame. She clutched his back and hair tightly until every fiber in her body just ran out of strength and she relaxed completely in his arms as he gave those last few jerky thrusts before releasing hotly into her with a groan and a clenched jaw. Michonne almost couldn't breathe when his entire weight collapsed on top of her from the effort, his muscles twitching from the sudden abuse he'd put them through, but then he rolled off to the side and she sucked in a deep breath before letting it out in a long, satisfied sigh.

"So...pass? Fail?" Daryl asked from her side, causing her to turn her head and smile at him.

"Oh, I'd say you passed with flying colors," she replied breathlessly. He grinned at her, his blue eyes twinkling happily and little crinkles forming in the corners. Just that look alone made her want to jump him all over again, but before she had the chance, he yawned and rolled onto his back with a sigh.

"Good," he said, sounding really sleepy, "I give ya an A plus."

Michonne laughed and rolled onto her side to take a hold of his arm and lay her head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat slowing down, right now it was still beating a little faster than normal.

"You can't fall asleep here, you know?" she said sadly, wishing they could just stay there forever like this. "People will get suspicious if we don't come to the cell block to sleep."

Daryl groaned but nodded, knowing darn well she was right.

"I'll go first then you can come," Michonne stated as she stood up and pulled her panties and jeans back on followed by her bra and shirt. She tossed Daryl's discarded shirt at his face and he caught it effortlessly.

"Right," he muttered as he slipped the shirt on again and rolled onto his stomach to reach out and grab the leg of his jeans and pulled them to him, slipping them on while still on the ground. He didn't look like he was in any hurry to get up.

Michonne shook her head and exited the store room carefully, scanning the hall before slipping out and heading for the cell block.

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Daryl tied his second boot and cracked his neck as he stood up and made his way towards the door. He turned to check if there was anything he'd left behind as he grabbed his crossbow from where it leaned against the door frame, and backed out the door...right into somebody. With a small yelp, Daryl spun around and came face to face with Carol who was squinting at him suspiciously.

"What were you doing in there, Daryl?" she asked, a slight smile playing on the corners of her lips.

"Nothin'! Just, uh, doing a check of the rooms, ya know?" Daryl replied lamely, not even convincing himself.

"Mmhmm," Carol said skeptically, she leaned forward and sniffed a few times. "Checking the rooms, my ass. You smell like sex."

Daryl cringed visibly at her blunt remark and he felt his cheeks heat up with a blush he was sure Carol saw clearly.

"Uh...well..."

"You know there's no shame in it, Daryl," Carol said calmly, "We all need some...personal time once in a while."

Daryl's eyes widened in shock at her suggestion.

"Whoa now," he raised his hands in a defensive way, "I wasn't jackin' off if that's what you're sayin'!"

Carol rolled her eyes.

"I'm not judging," she said with an amused smile, "I use to be quite friendly with my vibrator before the world ended and I'm not ashamed to..."

"CAROL!" Daryl ran his hand down his face with groan, "Jeez, I was with Michonne!"

Carol's whole expression and posture changed, she got visibly excited and interested.

"Really?!" she squealed, "Oh my gosh, it's about time!"

"Please don't spread this around," Daryl mumbled, realizing he'd just spilled the beans. "Carol, ya better keep it to yerself or I'll...I'..."

"You'll what?" Carol challenged with bright eyes.

"Just...ya better keep yer mouth shut!" Daryl growled before turning sharply and stomping off down the hall, leaving Carol behind as she laughed and went into the storage room to put away the bag of flour she was bringing back from the kitchen.

Oh, she had just stumbled on the best piece of gossip they'd had in a long, long time.

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD**

**I apologize again for the long wait! Gimme some feedback and make me a very happy authoress :)**

**Peace out, girlscouts (and boyscouts if any random guys are reading this)!**


	14. Secret's Out

**8 more days, ya'll! We're in the single digits now!**

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Daryl was sitting on one of the picnic tables in the prison yard the next afternoon sharpening his hunting knife, making arrows and arrowheads and cleaning his gun. He might have appeared to be completely caught up in his work, but he was actually keeping a close and watchful eye on everything going on around him. He saw the change of guard and took note of the fact T-Dog and Maggie had replaced Andrea and Rick in the towers, his gaze flicked to alleyway between the prison buildings where Lori and Carol were hanging out clothes to dry since the day was relatively warm, he saw Carl playing catch with Beth out of the corner of his eye...Daryl Dixon never let his guard down.

And so he saw Andrea approaching from a mile away and he saw the mischievous grin on her face before she sat down next to him on the table and leaned forward to look at him. She was grinning like a possum.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Dixon," she stated.

"What would that be, blondie?" Daryl asked gruffly, not taking his eyes off the length of wood he was cutting down to an arrow as he spoke. He wasn't _really _interested in what she had to say to be honest.

"I guess it makes sense so," Andrea continued, "Even at the end of the world we all need to get off now and then."

Daryl tensed then, knowing what she was referring to now.

"I told that woman to keep her damn mouth shut," he muttered darkly, giving the arrow to be a firm swipe with his blade.

"You know, if you talk like that on a normal basis I can't imagine what it's like when you talk dirty," Andrea mused.

"Fuck you, Andrea," Daryl snapped, his blue eyes flashed as he continued whittling down the stick, trying to keep his temper under control.

"Well I always thought it might be more like..." Andrea leaned back and sat up straight, dropping her voice as she tried to imitate his southern drawl, " 'Oh yeah, girl, I'm gonna make ya come so hard' or 'Ya like that, ya dirty little thang?'"

Andrea knew she'd hit a nerve that time because Daryl blushed, flat out _blushed_, and his blade slipped and nicked his thumb.

"Shit!" he snapped, dropping the knife in the dirt and sucking on his thumb hard. He turned his head to glare at her. "Look what ya made me do, you idiot!"

Andrea laughed, because there was a playfulness to that statement and she knew he was slightly amused at her wonderings underneath his pissed off expression and words.

"So...Michonne, huh?" Andrea asked, seeking confirmation.

"What of it?" Daryl growled past his thumb. He removed it to examine the slice and spit off to the side and Andrea noticed it was bright red. She felt kind of bad for making him cut himself.

"Just...thought you didn't like her," Andrea admitted, "You two didn't really click well."

Daryl chuckled at that and gave her mischievous grin.

"I think we clicked just fine, if ya ask me," he stated.

Andrea looked at him in shock for a moment before bursting into hearty laughter as Daryl just chuckled.

"Who all knows then?" he asked.

"Everyone," Andrea admitted with a shrug.

Daryl growled low in his throat and glared in Carol's direction.

"Daryl, you're bleeding all over the place," Andrea chided, standing up. "Come with me and we'll patch that up."

Daryl sighed, looking at his torn thumb and nodded in defeat, it did look pretty deep and it was bleeding pretty steadily. So he grabbed all his stuff off the table and followed Andrea to the clinic.

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Daryl was still in the clinic, Andrea had left a while ago, and he was looking at all the medications and instruments with keen interest. He'd never been to a hospital in his life, all his broken bones and gashes had been patched up at home to avoid suspicion from nurses poking all over and seeing the scars and bruises...but to tell the truth, he'd always been curious about medicine and all that but never had the opportunity to learn much other than what he read in books.

He picked up a small glass vial and examined it closely.

"Lidocaine," he muttered, reading the seemingly nonsense filled label, trying to decipher the use of the stuff.

"It's an anesthetic," a voice behind him made him jump and he turned quickly to see Carol standing there with her hands full of rag strips. She smiled and walked to the left side of the room and put them in a drawer before walking over to stand next to him, her arms crossed as she examined the collection of medications. "What are you doing?"

"Just...lookin' around," he replied, replacing the vial on the shelf. Then he remembered he was pissed at her and he squinted sideways at her. "Didn't I tell ya yesterday t' keep your mouth shut about me and Michonne?"

Carol looked at him in surprise.

"I haven't told a soul!" she claimed firmly.

"You ain't, huh?" Daryl rolled his eyes, "Then how come it is everyone in the damn prison knows today?"

Carol turned on her heels to face him, her head cocked slightly to the side. She raised her chin, defiantly.

"I don't know, but I can honestly say it's _not_ my fault!" she said simply. "And I'm surprised you think I'd go behind your back!"

Daryl felt chastised and he blushed slightly, his eyes dropped to the floor and he scuffed his boot a few times.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Carol smiled gently and placed a hand on his cheek, lifting his face back up. He looked at her and somehow everything felt a little less embarrassing. He didn't see any judgment or disappointment or annoyance or disgust in her eyes and he knew he never would. Carol Peletier was the only one who got him and knew who he was. And Michonne...Michonne was all those things too and more. There was an easiness he had with Carol that was different than with Michonne though, no sexual tension, just honesty and genuine care.

"I can help you find out who spilled the beans if you want," Carol said with a smile. "But I'm pretty sure I already know who it was."

"Who?"

"Michonne, of course," Carol laughed lightly.

"What?" Daryl looked at her in disbelief.

"Must have been worth talking about," Carol clarified with a wink. "Michonne's not much of a talker either, kind of like you, so if she was talking about it then you two must really have something good together."

Daryl smiled at Carol's back as she walked out of the clinic, having said all she needed to. He liked that about his good friend, she never wasted words around him and kept it honest and real. He made a mental note to talk this whole thing over with Michonne when she got back from the scouting trip with Glenn and Herschel.

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Daryl was waiting for the group to return, waiting in the alleyway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and one foot pressed back against it while the other supported him. He'd heard them return and he knew Michonne would be walking by on the way to take over watch for T-Dog and he had a plan to get her alone to chew her out over her big mouth.

Sure enough, she walked by the alleyway, whistling as she made her way towards the towers. However, she didn't get far because Daryl's hand shot out from under the hanging laundry and grabbed her arm, pulling her into the alley with him.

"Daryl! You scared the shit out of me!" she claimed, placing her hand over her heart.

Daryl looked at her terrified expression which had faded now to amused annoyance with a thoughtful look.

"Did ya tell everyone about us?" he cut right to the point, crossing his arms across his chest.

Michonne blinked a few times before she broke into a grin.

"Well...not everyone," she said slowly, "But I told a select few. Must have just gotten around like stories do, you know?"

She seemed way too pleased with herself for Daryl's taste.

"Don't ya think...maybe you're jumpin' the gun?" he asked.

"Why would I be jumping the gun?" Michonne questioned in return, looking less certain all of the sudden. "Are you...embarrassed to be with me in public or something?"

"Are ya seriously asking me that?" Daryl almost growled, annoyed at the accusation. "I ain't embarrassed. I just..."

"You don't like everyone knowing your business," Michonne finished for him, placing her hand on his face with a soft smile. "I'm sorry, Daryl, I should have thought about that. But...I just couldn't keep it to myself."

"That good, huh?" Daryl cocked an eyebrow as her thumb traced his cheekbone.

"Pretty damn," Michonne replied quietly.

Daryl felt his stomach do a funny little flip at the same time his chest puffed out slightly with pride at her confession. He reached out and gripped her by the shoulders, pulling her close to claim her mouth, his tongue immediately pushing past her teeth to trace the contours of her mouth. He'd expected some sort of defensive reaction, but he was overjoyed when she practically melted in his hands and stepped closer smoothly to deepen the kiss by adding her own tongue to the dance. She was by no means compliant, however, and Daryl found she was soon dominating the kiss and pushing him back slightly, so he spun her around quickly and backed her firmly into the wall of the prison. She giggled slightly as they broke their kiss and her hands slid under the material of his jacket and shirt to run up the expanse of his back, her dark eyes locked on his as she traced a few of the scars there.

"Did I ever tell you I think scars are hot?" she whispered when she saw his expression falter at the tracing.

Daryl looked unsure for a moment but then he broke into a genuine smile and he kissed her gently on the lips then pulled back and leaned his forehead to hers, just looking at her eyes because they were so captivating and his heartbeat picked up as she stared right back.

"Your eyes are so damn beautiful," he commented, his thumbs tracing her jaw.

"So are yours," Michonne said with a smile.

"They're just blue," Daryl shurgged, "Everybody's got blue eyes."

"Not like yours," Michonne insisted, "Damn, Daryl...every time you look at me it's like being eye fucked."

Daryl laughed out loud at that and Michonne's fingers traced the laugh lines that crinkled next to his eyes and she laughed lightly too.

They were just about to lean in for another kiss when the laundry parted and Lori stepped through with the laundry basket, Carol was right behind her.

"Oh! Sorry..." Lori's eyes were wide when she saw them.

The two of them realized suddenly how very, very close they were and the fact that Michonne's left leg had lifted to wrap her ankle around his right calf. They separated from eachother with a few mumbled words about "getting to the tower" and "wax my bow" and "see you later" before Michonne slipped out of the alley and took off for the guard tower, leaving Daryl standing awkwardly in front of the two ladies doing laundry with quite a noticeable lump in the front of his jeans.

"Sorry," Carol whispered with a smile, "Didn't mean to ruin the moment."

"Sorry I got mad atcha earlier, Carol," Daryl stated gently, ignoring her comment.

Carol just smiled and winked, letting him know she got the message and he didn't need to make a point in front of Lori. He gave her an appreciative nod before he edged past them and headed for the gate, feeling the need to get in a little hunting before dark.

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**Ok...bedtime. My gosh, 12 hour E.R. shifts starting at 5 A.M. for the last few days...I am gonna sleep all day tomorrow! Guess what, guys...TWD SEASON 3 IS COMING SOON! If I DO sleep all day tomorrow, that's just one less day I have to wait :D**

**Review and let me know if there's anything you want to see because...honestly...I don't know where to go from here, really. For reals, give me some ideas :)**


	15. Going To Town

**Tomorrow is the day we've all been waiting for!**

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The place was buzzing when Michonne rolled herself out of bed that morning, she could hear everyone's voices echoing off the walls of the large room outside the cells and she sighed, wondering what had happened. But when she walked out, no one looked relatively upset except for Lori.

"What's going on?" she whispered to Daryl, who was leaning against the wall behind everyone. No one even seemed to notice she'd entered the room except for him, he smiled at her.

"Rick's planning a run into the next town over," Daryl whispered back, reaching over and taking hold of her hand secretly. "So...I won't be here today at all."

"That's ok," Michonne shrugged, "Because I won't either."

Daryl smiled as he looked back over to the table where Rick and Glenn and T-Dog were pointing at the map and discussing the best way around the town.

"You comin' along?" he drawled calmly.

"Of course I am," Michonne replied simply, "You boys would be lost without me."

"That so?" Daryl laughed lightly, squeezing her hand, "How do you think we survived so far?"

"Pure chance."

Daryl gave her a sideways grin and then stepped forward when Rick called to him to come and look over their plan. Michonne found the sudden lack of contact a large disappointment and she sighed as she followed behind him. Even across the short distance to the table, she watched the way his muscles moved in his jeans with admiration and she fought the urge to reach and give him a squeeze.

"Are you joining us, Michonne?" Rick asked as she joined them at the table.

"Absolutely," she said with a nod, "So...what are we going after?"

"Anything and everything," Rick stated with a sigh, "Winter is almost here and I think it would be in our best interest to get as much food, medical supplies, clothes and anything else before we have to hunker down for the winter. I'd like to make one run or maybe two and get everything we need."

"I agree," Michonne nodded, seeing the logic in this plan.

"Ok, so Maggie has circled all the stores containing things we might need," Rick continued, pointing at a few of the red circles on the map, "We have a clinic here, a pharmacy on the other side of town, any number of clothing stores, a Wal*Mart, several convenience stores and gas stations...all in all it's a decent sized town. But that means more walkers too."

Everyone nodded in somber understanding, they all knew the risk they were taking.

"We're gonna pair up and go in," Rick was continuing when Michonne began to pay attention again, "T-Dog and I, Glenn and Andrea, Daryl and Michonne."

Michonne fought the urge to grin and remained absolutely blank as she continued to listen to the rules Rick was laying down. He was telling the ones who were staying behind what to do in case of an attack and all that jazz, but she wasn't listening anymore because all that mattered was the mission she was a part of.

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A few hours later they split up among two vehicles, the Suburban and the Hyundai, and headed out of the prison gates toward the town about ten miles down the road. Rick, Daryl and Michonne were in the Suburban while T-Dog, Glenn and Andrea followed behind in the Hyundai.

"We'll park about a quarter mile out from the town and take the Hyundai in closer in case we need to get out fast, it's quieter," Rick was saying into his walkie-talkie.

"Sounds like a plan," T-Dog replied from the Hyundai.

"We'll discuss who goes where before we go in," Rick stated and then shut the talkie off.

When they parked the Hyundai, they piled out of it and stood around as Rick assigned locations to the pairs. Michonne and Daryl were suppose to hit up the BP station on the west side of town, T-Dog and Rick were taking the Wal*Mart on the other side of town, and Glenn and Andrea were heading for the strip mall just inside the city limits.

"Ok, so we know our locations, know what we've gotta do," Rick stated, waiting for understanding nods, "Alright then, let's get to it. Anyone get in trouble, contacts us on the talkies and head for safety. Either try to get back to the vehicles or wait somewhere until either we can get to you or the coast is clear."

Everyone had heard the rundown a million times so it was no surprise when Daryl gave Michonne a jerk of his head and started walking off without a word. Michonne gave Rick an apologetic, yet amused, look before trotting after the redneck.

"That was pretty rude, Daryl," she admonished him with a giggle.

"Hush your mouth, girl," Daryl stated playfully, and yet one hundred percent serious. "We're tryin' t' keep a low profile here."

Michonne nodded and rolled her eyes, she knew damn well how to do runs. But she felt silent anyway, not because of his demand but because it was the safest thing to do.

Daryl led them down the sidewalks towards the direction of the gas station, his eyes scanning carefully and his body poised like he was ready to run at any given notice. Michonne thought if his ears could prick up like a dog, they would at this moment. She bit her bottom lip to stifle the giggle she randomly felt rising in her throat and she took her mind off the mental image of Daryl's ear pricking by staring at the back pockets of his jeans, admiring the way his muscles moved beneath them as he walked. Michonne was paying such close attention to said muscle group that she didn't even notice when he stopped walking until she bumped into him. Daryl turned around quickly and glared at her and she grinned sheepishly. He nodded towards the corner and held up three fingers, signifying three walkers were on the street between them and the gas station.

The rest of his hand motions told her he was going to take one out from here then they would both take one hand-to-hand. Michonne nodded and drew her sword quietly, watching with interest as he picked off the closest walker with amazing precision then drew his buck knife. He nodded and they ran out at the other two. Michonne took the furthest one and it was down in one swing and looking back she saw Daryl had just yanked his knife out of the skull of his walker. She smiled at him as he wiped the blood on his pant leg and then sheathed it, pulling back his bowstring and nocking an arrow, then they continued across the now empty street to the gas station.

The station was relatively empty, except for two ex workers in the stock room who were wandering among the shelves. They were easily disposed of by Michonne's katana and they finally let themselves relax a bit while they searched the place.

"I'ma go see if any of these cars around here have any gas left," Daryl announced, "Be back in a minute. You know what to do if you get in any trouble."

Michonne nodded, grateful that he didn't treat her like she was helpless. She wasted no time in scouring the stockroom for anything unspoiled or useful. An unopened, although quite bent up box of Cheerios rested on the very back of the top shelf and she had to climb up to get it, a few cans of Campbell's chicken noodle soup were on the shelf next to it, a bag of powdered donuts and several unopened shipping boxes which she excitedly discovered contained undisturbed contents. One box was full of Rold Gold pretzels, one contained bags of flour, another full of Lays Barbecue potato chips and the last...toilet paper. Somehow, that last box seemed like the best thing ever.

Michonne placed her Cheerios box, soup cans and donuts in the pretzel box and dragged them out to the front. The shelves out front were fairly picked through but Michonne was determined not to leave anything at all that they could use. So she grabbed a beaded handbag and started scouring the shelves. She shoved the packs of gum, travel sized toothpaste tubes, bottles of hand sanitizer, candy bars, bags of candy, Ramen Noodle packets and unlabeled cans into it. By the time Daryl returned, she had everything that was worth taking in a pile on the floor.

"Nice haul," Daryl said with a grin, slinging his crossbow on his back. "Let's take some of this back to the car, I gotta get the gas cans from it. Lots of half full tanks out there."

"Sounds like a plan," Michonne agreed, grabbing the beaded bag and hanging it on her shoulder. She grabbed the box of pretzels and nodded. "Cover me?"

Daryl smiled and they headed out the door, Daryl going ahead to make their way clear. He took down two walkers but the way was relatively clear so they made it to the Hyundai without any problems and put the bag and box in the back hatch. Daryl grabbed the empty gas cans and they ran back to the gas station and Michonne stood watch while he went to work siphoning out the tanks of the many wrecked and abandoned cars along the street and in the lot.

"Alright, we'll leave these here in this truck cab," Daryl announced when he'd filled the final can. "We'll pick them and those last boxes up on the way out."

"Where are we going now?" Michonne asked, looking around for any stores that looked useful.

"Drug store," Daryl stated simply, pointing across and down the street to a white brick building. "Got a pharmacy inside."

"Good idea," Michonne said with a nod. Daryl, she thought, deserved more credit for his intelligence. No one had even thought about the pharmacy before now. "Come on."

The way to the pharmacy proved to be a little bit more difficult than the way to the gas station.

"Shit!" Michonne yelped as she ran almost smack in a small group of six walkers as she ran ahead past an alley, immediately they reached out for her, groaning as they shuffled forward. She jumped back and skittered away from them as Daryl pulled her by the arm. She felt a whoosh of air by her cheek and she saw an arrow embed in the nearest walker's face, grotesquely sprouting out of the eye socket.

"C'mon, you crazy woman!" Daryl growled in her ear, pulling her insistently towards to drug store.

"I'm coming, geez!" Michonne squeaked, taking a slash as she ran backwards, successfully beheading one of the walkers before she turned and ran flat out beside Daryl to the drug store's door. Daryl flung the door open and held it for her, then he reloaded his crossbow and took out a third walker before he shut the door.

"I'll take care of these three assholes," he said simply, "You check the back."

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

They cleared out the pharmacy and Michonne found a brilliant stash of medicine in the cupboards and shelves while Daryl cleared the shelves of the main part of the store, shoving every single pill bottle, tube of paste, liquid bottle and bandage he could find into a cardboard box he found behind the cash register. The fact that the register its self was untouched made him smile in sick amusement...funny how money was worthless as shit nowdays.

When Daryl was satisfied that he'd grabbed everything there was to be found on the shelves, he set the box on the counter and headed for the back room.

"Whatcha got back here?" he asked as he flung the door open, making Michonne jump in surprise.

"Pretty good stuff!" she said with a smile, "Lots of antibiotics, some pretty heavy duty pain killers, boxes of syringes and bottles of saline and I.V. fluids and all the fixings!"

Daryl grinned at her excited tone, glad he'd thought of coming here. Sometimes, he mused, he could do things right. He handed her one of the plastic bags he'd picked up in the front of the store and she took it with a nod and a smile, carefully packing away the medicines she found along the shelves, some were in packages ready to be shipped even...a glimpse of just how quickly this had all occurred.

A low groan made them both freeze up in the middle of pushing pill bottles into their bags and the both crouched down automatically. Michonne nodded towards the window that separated the pharmacy from the store front and Daryl looked up to see a blurry figure stumble by it.

"I got him," Michonne stated simply, standing and unsheathing her katana silently. She crept towards the door and flung it open, running out into the store to slice the head off the bastard. Daryl stayed where he was and waited for her to finish the job and come back...but she didn't.

"DARYL! I NEED YOUR HELP OUT HERE!" he heard her yell, slight panic on the edge of her usually stoic and calm voice. He jumped up immediately and flew out the door, skidding to a stop on the slick hardwood floor right next to her, and sized up the situation. About ten or twelve walkers had come in from the front door and he saw several more stumbling around on the street outside.

"Shit, should have shut the damn door," he grumbled, mentally kicking himself. Without even exchanging a word, the couple stood back to back and circle slowly as they waited for the walkers to attack. Daryl drew his buck knife and crouched, tensing his muscles for attack as one of the walkers stumbled towards them, without hesitation he stepped forward with one leg, his other still touching Michonne's to maintain their connection and hold their ground, and jabbed the blade deep in the walker's left eye. He felt Michonne tense behind him and there was the tell-tale sound of a head hitting the floor behind him and it made him grin in morbid amusement.

"To your right!" he snapped, seeing the walker approach out of the corner of his eye. Michonne made a little grunting sound of acknowledgement and they both turned, keeping their backs to eachother to give her room to swing and bring it down at the same time Daryl thrust his blade up into one of their skulls from under the jaw. They moved like a well oiled machine, each one giving and taking ground like they were made for this, like they could read each other just by feeling their slightest movements. Soon enough, the threat was diminished and Daryl carefully shut the door to avoid the walkers on the street seeing or hearing it close.

He slid down the door to the floor and let out a long exhale. Michonne stood in the middle of the floor, her chest rising and falling heavily as she surveyed the damage they had inflicted...then she started laughing. Daryl cracked an eye open and watched in amusement as she wiped off her sword and continued to chuckle, then her eyes raised to his and she smiled brightly.

"Well, Dixon, we make a pretty good team," she stated simply, she walked over and held out her hand to help him up off the floor. He grinned and took hold of it, but instead of getting up, he yanked her down to his level and gripped her biceps firmly, pulling her face to his and claimed her lips fiercely. She laughed again, into his lips, but she reciprocated very eagerly and her whole body just melted into his hold on her. She reached down and pushed his sprawled out legs apart so she could place her knees between them to steady herself. She felt the lean muscles under her hands twitch and tense as she moved his legs and she grinned. She never thought she'd be doing this, adrenaline fucking a white guy on a blood soaked drug store floor...but, as she slid her hands under his shirt to feel the heat of his skin under her palms, she thought it was something she could get use to very easily.

"Michonne," Daryl moaned softly, derailing her train of thought, "Ya know we can't do this here, now...right?"

Michonne sighed, deflating against him. Damn it, he was right...they didn't have time for this, and this was definitely not a safe place. They had to get the meds and meet back at the Hyundai. She nodded and difficultly removed herself from between his legs and stood up. This time, he accepted her hand to help him up and he practically jumped to his feet and pulled her in for another kiss. It was quick, but full of unspoken admiration.

"C'mon, woman," he said, his voice gruff. "Let's make this quick and get back."

He emphasized his words with a squeeze of her right buttock as he moved around her. Her eyes widened but she didn't make a sound, she just followed him back to the pharmacy, considering doing a little grabbing of her own as she watched his tight ass move under the material of his jeans. Shaking her head, she tried to refocus her mind on the task at hand. Together, they emptied the shelves and boxes and bags and then slunk out the back door with their stash, making their way along the back alleys toward the meeting place.

Rick and T-Dog were there already, loading several boxes into the back hatch of the Hyundai.

"Successful trip?" Michonne asked as they approached. T-Dog grinned.

"Aw yeah," he laughed, "Got all kinds of goodies in these boxes. And there's plenty more in that store. Lots of walkers though, you won't catch me back there anytime soon."

"Yeah, we had a bit of a run in at the pharmacy," Michonne agreed with a nod, "Don't worry though, Daryl and I took them down with extreme prejudice."

Daryl gave her a funny look, as if he was considering her word usage and deciphering her meaning behind it.

"We killed them very aggressively," Michonne reworded with a wink. Daryl grinned in agreement.

"That we did," he stated.

"CUT THE CHIT CHAT!"

Everyone jerked at the loud shriek and they turned to see Andrea and Glenn running at top speed towards them, several bags hanging from their arms. They looked scared and Glenn kept glancing back over his shoulder.

"Get that thing started and let's scram!" he called out, "We got a small herd on our tail!"

Rick immediately jumped in the driver's seat and started up the Hyundai and everyone piled in as quick as they could, not comfortably at all, and Rick tore up the gravel of the curb and got them turned around just as the heard emerged from around the buildings.

"Holy shit, guys!" T-Dog yelped, "Ever heard of stealth?!"

"Shut up!" Andrea snapped, eyes panicked. "That was so close...too close. They almost got Glenn."

Glenn nodded, his face pale and his body shaking.

Soon they left the herd in their dust cloud and headed for the Suburban they'd parked further out of town. Everyone was glad when Daryl and Michonne switched over, giving everyone more room in the small vehicle.

"See you back at the prison," Rick called out as they separated. Daryl nodded simply and climbed into the Suburban's driver's seat.

Michonne watched out the back window for a while, waiting for the heard to make an appearance, but they soon put enough distance between them and the town that she slumped down in the seat with a sigh.

"I don't like that going to town can kill you nowadays," she muttered, "Every time could be the last."

Daryl made a noncommittal sound deep in his throat, his eyes remained on the Hyundai in front of them. Sometimes Michonne wondered what went through that mind of his when he was like this, somber and silent.

"You alright?" she asked lightly. Daryl nodded curtly.

"Fine," he replied grimly, "Just thinkin'."

Michonne nodded, understanding that this was just how Daryl Dixon worked. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes, noticing how tight his grip was on the steering wheel and the way his teeth were worrying his bottom lip, his eyes squinting as he stared straight ahead. Everything about him was tense and tight and Michonne knew he was just a little bit freaked out by the fact they'd almost lost Glenn.

"You need to relax, Daryl," she whispered.

"I'm fine, Michonne," his tone said otherwise.

Michonne turned to look at him, her eyes thoughtful and a bit annoyed. He was always on edge, looking out for everyone else, he took the things that happened to this group upon himself a lot, she noticed. But she couldn't understand why he was wound so tight right now, no one was hurt, they'd had a successful run...

She decided it was time to take matters into her own hands...literally.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Dixon," she whispered, scooting closer to him, reaching across the consol between them and gripping him tightly through the material of his jeans. She felt him react immediately and he sucked in a deep breath. But, to his credit, he did keep his eyes ahead and his hands on the wheel as she rubbed him firmly a few times. She grinned at the expression his face took on when she popped the button of his jeans open and slid the zipper down with her finger.

"Michonne, I'm tryin' t' fuckin' drive here," he stated nervously.

"Not like there's anyone out here to get in a wreck with," Michonne laughed, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Daryl Dixon."

Daryl laughed lightly, something about that statement tickling his fancy.

"Even if that mouth is damn pretty?" he asked, his voice was thick with arousal and Michonne couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Eyes on the road," she reminded him as she released him from his jeans and gripped him firmly. She watched his face as she twisted her hands in opposite directions and then slid them up and down painfully slow. He exhaled shakily, with a little shuddering moan rumbled deep down in his chest, and she smiled. She loved the sounds he made.

"Mmmmichonne," he groaned loudly as she gave him a particularly strong squeeze, "Ya gotta stop that!"

"I quite agree," Michonne replied, a wicked grin spreading across her face, her white teeth flashing in contrast to her dark lips. She released her hold and scooted back slightly and she heard him sigh heavily, thinking she was giving up, but then laid her chest across the consol and slipped her head under his arm and over his lap.

"Jesus, Michonne, don't you fuckin'..." but he was cut off when she ducked her head and covered him deliberately with her mouth, her tongue immediately wrapping around the tip of him as she bobbed back up. "Ssshhhiiittt."

Michonne smiled slightly before taking him right back in, very gently running her teeth over the sensitive skin of his shaft and earning her a nervous whimper. She felt the Suburban pick up a little speed as Daryl's legs stiffened from the sensation and he smacked his thigh and lifted her head enough to speak.

"Hey, pay attention!" she snapped good-naturedly. "Slow down, Mario Andretti."

He chuckled nervously, but she noticed his leg relaxed and the speed came back down slightly before she ducked down again and began a furious bobbing motion with her head, pulling his deep into the back of her throat, fighting her gag reflex to take him in entirely. She felt his entire body shaking under her hands which were resting on his right hip and thigh to steady herself, and that shaking got more noticeable the more she moved until he was bucking slightly with her movements.

"The hell gets in your damn head, woman?" he gasped as a particularly forceful shudder shot through him. "Ya got a death wish?"

Michonne just laughed in her throat as she continued her work. She knew he wasn't going to last much longer when she heard his start to pant heavily and let out strained little whimpers and moans that were in perfect timing with his twitches in her mouth. Sure enough, he grabbed her hair a few seconds later.

"Stop, stop, stop!" he yelped, panicked sounding as he tugged her hair, trying to pull her off. "I'm gonna..."

Michonne growled in her throat and smacked his hand off her head, continuing her assault. She was rewarded with an exceptionally loud groan from his throat and an exceptionally violent twitch in her mouth before she felt hot liquid filling her throat. She swallowed twice as she let him ride it out and only then did she pull back and sit up, her eyes soft and her face playful. He was resting his forehead on the steering wheel, but his eyes were still on the road ahead, hand gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles were pure white.

"Feel better?" she whispered with a smile. He lifted his head and looked at her with half lidded eyes, but he smiled shyly.

"Yeah," he breathed quietly, then he squinted and hesitantly reached out towards her face but then stopped. "Ya got a little...on your lip there..."

Michonne ran her thumb under her bottom lip and removed the offending line of sticky, salty wetness there. She eyed it for a second before popping her thumb in her mouth, sucking it firmly and removing it with a slurping pop. Daryl's jaw dropped and his eyes widened in amazement.

"Motherfu..." he was cut off when Michonne covered his mouth with hers.

"Hush," she said firmly when she backed off, "You swear too much."

**TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD **

**Sorry this took so long once again, but my mind hasn't been on writing lately. And I have 50 drug cards to do tonight...and it's 8 P.M. GOTTA DO THEM! Bye!**

**Oh hey...review for me, ya'll! I love reading your opinions!**


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